Oblivion
by Katwood5
Summary: Sometimes our choices define us. Sometimes we define our choices. Will Clary find a way out of her past choices, or will they consume her and cost her everything?
1. Chapter 1

Okay, so this is my first full-length fanfiction story. I've been very hesitant about posting it, but I've had a few positive reviews on my one-shots, and also a good bit of encouragement from others – especially rippingbutterflywings…YOU'RE THE BEST! Thanks for beta'ing and being my sounding board.

So, I'm not sure exactly how long this will end up being, but I intend on posting a chapter a week (granted, I continue to find inspiration on a regular basis). Please leave reviews! They will help in motivating and will also let me know if there is actual interest in my story.

Warning: Rated M for language and sexual themes.

_Disclaimer: Cassandra Clare owns all of The Mortal Instruments characters. I only own this story idea, so please do not steal/copy/infringe…etc…etc…my ideas. Thank you._

* * *

**OBLIVION**

_**Are you going to age with grace? Are you going to age without mistakes?**_

_**Are you going to age with grace, only to wake and hide your face?**_

_**When oblivion is calling out your name you always take it further than I ever can.**_

_**(Oblivion – Bastille)**_

* * *

Chapter One

_Cause when she sings I hear a symphony_

_And I'm swallowed in sound as it echoes through me._

_I'm renewed, oh how I feel alive and through autumn's advancing._

_We'll stay young, go dancing._

_(Stay Young, Go Dancing – Death Cab For Cutie)_

The noise was deafening. To anyone else, it would have been unbearable; they would have covered their ears in a defensive reaction to block it out or mute it, at least. But to her…it was the most beautiful sound in the world. It wasn't their incessant chants of her name, or their obscure declarations of love, or even their endless praise and adoration. No. It was the simple and unhindered appreciation for the thing that meant the most to her.

The one thing that no one could take away.

The one thing that made her who she was.

She stood behind the heavy curtain separating her from them and listened for what felt like an eternity. The noise seemed to never dull or lose fervor, only grow in its intensity. The hint of a smile playing on her raspberry tinted lips was unmistakable, as was the twinkle in her darkly lined jade eyes. The sweat still covered her petite frame in a thin, grimy layer, and her usually wild and unruly auburn curls now lay matted to her face and back, weighted down by the heavy moisture.

"They love you," a masculine voice spoke behind her.

Her smile grew in response as she turned to face her bandmate. "They love my music. It's the four of _you_ that they come to see."

He shook his head, the light catching his silver hair, and met her look with intuitive silver eyes and a loving grin.

"You know that's not true, Clary. They come to see you. _You're_ the one who inspires them. We're just the eye candy." He winked at her and chuckled.

Clary laughed. Jem always knew how to make her laugh.

"Maybe you're right."

"Of course I am. I'm always right."

Clary rolled her eyes and playfully shoved her friend away. Jem's chuckle grew into a laugh and he reached out and pulled her into his side, tucking his strong arm around her delicate waist and placing a chaste kiss to the top of her head.

"Come on," he said as he glanced back at the lights still flashing over the stage. "We have an after party to get to and a celebration in my honor."

"Don't remind me," Clary mumbled as she allowed him to lead her away from the stage.

* * *

_Tonight you're perfect,_

_I wanna fall in love with the stars in your eyes._

_Tonight you're perfect,_

_I wanna fall in love but only for the night._

_(Tonight You're Perfect – New Politics)_

"Hell yeah! This is fucking awesome!"

"Seb, do you always have to be so vulgar?"

Clarissa Morgenstern glared at her drummer, who was staring into The Pandemonium Club with a large goofy grin plastered across his angular face. His broad shoulders were stretching the thin material of his white shirt and his midnight hair was nearly obscuring his obsidian eyes from 'scoping out the local fare', as he always put it.

Sebastian looked over at her smirk. "Yes, babe. I do."

"Don't call me babe, Verlac," Clary huffed.

"Why? I thought you liked it when I call you babe."

"No," she drawled out, "your sluts like it. I, on the other hand, find it annoying and repulsive."

Sebastian chuckled. "Whatever you say, _babe._ I'm going to find some fine ass to dance with."

Clary was about to retort when Sebastian pressed his lips to her forehead, brushed his calloused hand over her hair, then disappeared into the throng of bodies pressed up against each other and swaying to the beat of the music pulsing through the air.

"Gone to find his first victim?"

Clary turned towards the voice, a broad smile stretching across her lips.

"Yeah, poor girl…if only she could be warned."

Alec snorted. "Sadly I don't think it would help."

"Probably not. So…where's our favorite stylist? I haven't seen him since he forced me into this dress earlier."

Alec Lightwood's deep blue crystalline eyes scanned her body and a slight smirk tugged at the corner of his lips. Her cheeks immediately heated under his scrutiny.

"He's getting drinks…and I like the dress. It's sexy."

Clary scoffed. "Right."

Alec's large slender hands enveloped her shoulders and maneuvered her body to face him. Due to his six-foot plus height difference, he had to stoop in order to be relatively eye level with her. Through his coal-colored hair, his eyes shone with sincerity as he spoke.

"You have no idea how beautiful you are, Angel…it drives me insane sometimes. If you could see yourself the way that I see you…or the way that Jem, or Jordan, or Seb see you…I just wish you knew."

She stared at him in shock. Alec was always affectionate towards her, but this was different. If she didn't know he was gay, she might have been confused by his words.

"Hello, my lovelies."

Alec righted himself and turned towards his boyfriend, taking the drink intended for him with a smile. Clary shook herself from her thoughts to focus her attention on her stylist, and Alec's boyfriend, Magnus Bane.

"What's shakin', gorgeous?"

Clary looked up at the man standing before her taking in his flamboyant choice of wardrobe, wild and colorful hair, and decorated face encasing the most peculiar cat-like eyes. Magnus was definitely an eccentric character, and a stark contrast to Alec, but she loved him and his quirkiness all the same. And he was a damn good stylist. If he could make her look _this_ good, then he performed magic in her book.

"Clary was just whining about her dress," Alec explained as he sipped his drink.

Magnus' slanted eyes grew in size as he scoffed. "What?! Why? That dress is sexy as hell on you!"

"That's what I told her, but, you know…" Alec trailed off.

Magnus narrowed his eyes at her and she suddenly felt like she was in trouble. Not a good feeling.

"That dress," he began, pointing his glittery polished finger at her, "is Dolce and Gabbana. The lace is specially woven and it was hand cut and crafted to fit your measurements specifically. I've had the designer working on it since I found out about this event two months ago."

She threw her hands up in surrender."Alright, alright. I'm sorry. You're right. It's perfect."

She had to admit to herself that it did make her feel sexy. It was a far cry from her usual jeans and Converse or even her stage outfits, which tended to lean towards the rocker chic side of her fashion. But this dress was classy with enough sex to turn up the heat. It was made entirely of black lace. The top was a boat neck that draped off her shoulders in thick straps and scooped wide across her collar bones, dipping dangerously low in the back and hugging her curves all over. The hem line stopped just short of mid-thigh with a scalloped edge, giving it a feminine flare and showcasing her legs. Since it was entirely see-through, she wore a silky black matching bandeau and cheeky undergarment set. Top it off with the 6 inch red heels and her somewhat tamed red curls and smoky eyes and she did sort of look sexy.

"You're damn right I'm right," Magnus huffed.

Alec chuckled and placed his hand on his boyfriend's arm."Come on, let's go find somewhere to sit down."

Clary watched as the two guys sauntered away, Magnus swinging his hips slightly, and she giggled to herself at their hilarity. Deciding it was time for a drink, she breezed her way through the meshing bodies and towards the bar where she planted herself on a vacant stool. She ordered a fruity mixed drink to start the night off, deciding to hold off on the harder stuff until after their short performance later. She was still feeling a bit nostalgic that Jem would be parting ways with their band after that night, but she tried not to focus too much on it. If she did, then she would start crying. And crying was not an option, at least not in front of the multitude of strangers that engulfed her.

Jem Carstairs had been with their band, The Clockwork Princess, since they had started six years ago. It was going to be hard to move forward without him. But she understood; he had a commitment he had to keep. He had been delaying the inevitable for far too long and it was just a matter of time before he cracked anyway. Tessa Grey, his fiancé, wasn't going to keep accepting his excuses to ward off her incessant requests. She wanted to get married and start a family. Jem wanted to make her happy. So he complied and agreed that he would leave right after their first performance of the new tour…which happened to be earlier that night. They kicked off in their hometown, Manhattan, so it was the perfect opportunity for him to bid farewell to the city where it all began.

And that's what brought them to this ridiculously extravagant party the label was throwing as a 'go away/send-off' for Jem. Clary understood that there were several individuals that wanted to give him their best wishes, but she hated these sorts of events. Especially when it was in light of something as bittersweet as this. She would have rather had a small, intimate gathering of close friends and family to end it all. It would have meant more. But that wasn't her call. She had to play by _their_ rules, even if they were stupid and insensitive.

Besides, she had more pressing matters to think of than a moronic party. Her lead guitarist was leaving. Her _phenomenal_ lead guitarist at that. Who in the hell was she going to find to replace Jem in such a capacity as to uphold the standards that she had placed on their dynamic? No one could compare. No one _would_ compare. Jem was _it_, the whole package, and she didn't want to lose him. There was no way anyone else could compare to what he brought to their vibe. But he assured her that he had found someone perfect, someone one who had raw talent and would offer much more to their group than he could at that point. She doubted his enthusiasm, but she trusted him none the less.

She was lost in thought, tracing the rim of her second, half empty glass, when she felt a presence appear on the stool next to her.

"Hey there," a smooth voice broke through her reverie, the heat from his body radiating onto hers.

Clary didn't bother to look up. She was used to being hit on at these parties and at bars, and she always brushed her suitors off because she really couldn't be hassled with their lame one-liners and lack of intelligent conversation. They only flirted because of her status anyway.

"So you're going to play the 'Condescending Princess', is that it?"

That set her off. She slowly turned her head to face the obnoxious ass next to her, her features set in a glare of indifference. She didn't expect to be face-to-face with _Himeros_ himself, but there he was: the god of sexuality in all of his glorious perfection. She shook off her initial shock and schooled her features back in place before he noticed.

"I'm sorry, I wasn't aware that ignoring pretentious _ass-wipes_ was considered condescending."

_Himeros_ smirked at her, his honey eyes glinting with amusement. "That's real cute. Did you come up with that insult all by yourself?"

Without a word Clary turned back to her drink, swallowed the remaining alcohol, then spun on her stool and sashayed away from the bar, not caring in the slightest that she had just been a rude bitch to a complete stranger.

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Please review. :)


	2. Chapter 2

**Here's Chapter Two! I hope you enjoy it. :)**

**A special thanks to rippingbutterflywings for being so freaking awesome and beta'ing my Chapters!**

Warning: Rated M for language and sexual themes.

_Disclaimer: Cassandra Clare owns all of The Mortal Instruments characters. I only own this story idea, so please do not steal/copy/infringe…etc…etc…my ideas. Thank you._

* * *

Chapter Two

_My baby's on the level and I try to read her mind._

_She's on the straight and narrow I'm guessin' all the time._

_And I can see the road if I'm lookin' at the signs._

_I'm carryin' the load and steppin' outta line._

_(Level – The Raconteurs)_

Clary had made it halfway through the dancing mass before long slender fingers wrapped around her wrist, halting her progression. She stopped suddenly and threw a warning look over her shoulder, expecting to see some drunken loser hoping to get it on with her for a song or two. Instead she found _Himeros_…again. Damn, he just wouldn't give up!

_Persistent bastard._

"You must be either really drunk or slightly deranged to think that you have the right to touch me," she spat, narrowing her emerald eyes at him.

She knew she was being a total bitch, but she didn't care. She was ready for this night to be over with so she could go home and wallow in her misery.

Her words didn't seem to faze him, though. "Dance with me."

It wasn't a question, but a bold statement instead. His eyes held sincerity. There was not a hint of arrogance in them, and that confused her. She looked at him for a moment, her brow furrowed and her lips turned slightly downward, before answering with a solid 'No' and turning away to proceed in the opposite direction. But his grip did not loosen and she was held in place, unable to move away.

"Just one dance," he gently insisted.

Clary turned back towards _Himeros_ and sighed with a roll of her eyes, her shoulders sagging just barely.

"Isn't there some blonde bimbo with big tits around here that you're missing out on?" she asked in exasperation, sarcasm and defeat lacing her tone.

"Probably," he replied, his sexy smirk returning, "but I'm interested in _you_, not 'some blonde bimbo'."

That threw her off guard. She wasn't expecting sincerity from an obvious player like him, especially not without the cocky wit or sarcastic retort attached to the statement.

"Why?" she demanded.

"What do you mean?" he asked, his confusion apparent in his voice and his expression.

"Why are you interested in _me_? I'm nothing special. Not compared with the women in this place anyway."

"On the contrary," he grinned. "I think you're quite special. You're certainly different."

"Different. Yeah," she snorted as she wrenched her wrist out of his grip.

_Himeros_ stepped in front of her before she could leave. "Maybe I like different."

He was looking down at her, from what would normally be a good foot height difference if she weren't wearing heels, and his face lacked all obvious emotion. However, his eyes betrayed him. Those golden orbs swirled with something that made her stomach flip and her heart race. She was frozen in place, locked in their trance.

"Just one dance," he insisted again.

Clary bit her bottom lip in contemplation as she looked up at him from beneath her lashes.

"One dance? And then I go back to my friends."

"If that's what you want," he answered. "Yes."

She paused for a moment and then replied. "Ok."

_Himeros_ smiled widely in gratification, then took her by the hand and curled her into his tall firm body. His left hand splayed across her bare lower back, his long fingers stretching across the expanse of it. His right hand gently gripped her hip, tugging her closer to him. Her body was flush against his and she could feel the heat radiating from him as she looked into his eyes. Her heart sped up and her breath staggered. She hoped he couldn't tell.

He felt so good pressed against her petite curves as she wrapped her small hands around his solid biceps. She could feel every muscle within him as he moved, and his delicious scent engulfed her in an enthralling cloak. His skin was surprisingly smooth, except for his fingertips, which felt calloused and rough, but in a very good and inviting way. His light blonde hair fell in messy, irresistible waves all around his head, curling at the base of his neck and framing his radiant flawless face. His lips were full and soft looking, his nose was narrow and impeccably proportioned, and his jaw…god, his jaw was so chiseled and muscular and…

_Mouthwatering._

Clary couldn't help but get lost it the man she called _Himeros_, it was nearly impossible not to. She knew that she was treading dangerous territory by dancing like this with him, but she didn't care. Not at the moment anyway, because he felt so damn good and he was so damn sexy. She could tell he obviously worked out by the way his muscles wrapped around his solid frame so tightly, every inch of him sculpted to unadulterated goodness. She could see the chorded muscle through the black fitted t-shirt and low sitting, slightly snug, jeans that hung precariously from his enticing, narrow hips.

Hips that were now grinding sinfully against her own, moving them in perfect harmony together. With each sway and dip he made, the tingling in her lower abdomen increased, and she wondered briefly if _Himeros_ could feel her heart pounding against his unyielding chest. His right knee slipped between her slender thighs and she could feel the rough texture of his denim rubbing against the upper inside of her legs, causing the tingling to ignite and burn with an overwhelming sensation. His left hand traveled up the exposed skin of her back to rest between her shoulder blades, holding her in place against him as if she would suddenly take flight, and his right hand eased its way over her hip to firmly cup her ass and press her lower abdomen further into his.

And, if she wasn't mistaken, she could feel a hardness poking against her right hipbone, which caused her cheeks to inflame with heat as her eyes dropped to his broad chest.

"No need to be embarrassed, Pepper," his sultry voice purred as his lips brushed against the outer shell of her ear.

A chill raced up her spine causing a physical tremor to wrack her body. The burning sensation from before had spread throughout her limbs and she suddenly became very aware of how aroused _Himeros_ had made her with his simple caresses and sultry words. She couldn't even respond to the fact that he'd just called her a character from Iron Man.

_Damn him._

Needing to get her senses together and sort out the jumbled thoughts in her head, Clary cleared her throat and pushed against his chest, successfully dislodging their bodies. _Himeros_ stared at her in shock, apparently not used to being rejected, and Clary brushed her hands downs her sides as if she were wiping herself clean of him. She quickly looked up into his puzzled eyes and drew in a short, deep breath before spinning on her heels and walking away without so much as an explanation for her abrupt actions. That was the second time that night that she had turned her back on the golden god.

* * *

_We are the last people standing at the end of the night._

_We are the greatest pretenders in the cold morning light._

_This is just another night and we've had many of them._

_To the morning we're cast out but I know I'll land here again._

_How am I gonna get myself back home?_

_(Get Home – Bastille)_

"There you are. I was beginning to worry…"

Isabelle Lightwood, Clary's best friend and personal assistant, was suddenly at her side with a panicked expression on her beautiful, angular face.

"No need to worry, I'm right here."

"Where were you?" Isabelle asked out of curiosity.

"I was dancing."

"Dancing? With whom?"

"It's not important."

Clary was brought up short as Isabelle's manicured fingers grabbed ahold of her forearm.

"What do you mean 'it's not important'?" she asked, narrowing her dark eyes.

"Izzy, it was nothing. No need to get worked up. I was just dancing, and now I'm not," she stated as if she were explaining it to a child.

Isabelle didn't release her immediately, but instead studied her friend's face for a brief moment. Then, with a sigh, she finally surrendered her grasp on Clary's arm and the two women continued in the direction of the makeshift stage area.

"So Mags has been freaking out for the last five minutes because he couldn't find you," Isabelle explained with a flip of her long, silky jet black hair.

Clary sighed and rolled her eyes and she heard a giggle come from Isabelle. They both knew how dramatic Magnus could be, especially when it came to his stylist duties. He took his job very seriously. Far more so than he probably should, but Clary's wasn't about to complain. Besides, she loved him and all of his drama nonetheless.

"Finally!" a voice called to them as soon as they had passed through the curtain separating the club from the backstage area.

"Hey Mags. I'm here," Clary sighed.

Magnus waltzed up to her and immediately began making a fuss over her appearance.

"What the hell have you been doing? Rolling around on the floor?" He wrinkled his nose. "And why do you smell like sweaty sex?"

Clary simply rolled her eyes and ignored Magnus as his rant continued on; all the while he fluffed her hair, and straightened her dress, and touched up her make up.

"There's my sexy little Red."

Clary smiled in relief at the sound of a rough, deep voice next to her ear.

"Hey Jordan," she chirped.

"Mags, leave her alone. She looks perfect." Jordan swatted at Magnus' hands and attempted to shoo him away.

"Watch it, pretty boy. I _will_ lay you out on your back if you do not stop touching me." Magnus snapped back. "And _I'll_ determine when she looks perfect."

He took a step back, cocked his head to the side with a contemplative look on his sparkly features, stepped forward again and fluffed once more, before stepping back and giving her a firm nod.

"Now she looks perfect."

And with that he sauntered back to Alec and proceeded to prod at him, receiving a very agitated response from his boyfriend.

"God, I swear he really is a woman sometimes," Jordan sighed.

Clary giggled and Jordan peered down at her with a goofy grin plastered on his striking face. His dark brown hair desperately needed a trim as it hung in his eyes and down his neck, just touching the collar of his t-shirt. His startling hazel-green eyes barely peaked through but they still managed to pop in contrast to his tan features. Just like the other three male members of the band, Jordan Kyle was fit and extraordinarily good-looking. He was also, like the other three, much taller than Clary and towered over her tiny figure. He had a very sexy, laid-back skater boy appeal with his random band tees and ragged jeans and Converse, but it worked for him, as did the tattoos that wound around his arms in script lettering.

"Yeah, it's highly probable," Clary agreed with a giggle.

Jordan smiled at her. "You look amazing, by the way."

Her cheeks turned a nice shade of crimson. "Thanks."

They stayed in silence for a short time as their eyes carried on a private conversation.

"So…" Jordan drawled as he looked away, "What have you heard about this new guitarist Jem found?"

Clary was just opening her mouth to respond when she was interrupted.

"He better be damn good," Sebastian grumbled as he joined the pair, his face set in a scowl.

"I agree," Simon piped in as he moved towards them, followed by Isabelle in her tight blue dress.

"What do you know, Lewis?" Sebastian inquired. "You're not in a band."

"Hey!" Isabelle raised her voice and narrowed her eyes. "Simon used to be in _this_ band, unless you have forgotten…_SEB_."

"Trust me. I haven't forgotten _that_ horrible sound. As much as I've tried…"

"Hey!" Simon and Isabelle shouted at the same time.

"Now, Seb," Alec's voice cut in, "quit patronizing my sister and her fiancé."

"But it's so fun…"

"You're a douche, Seb," Isabelle grumbled, folding her arms across her well-endowed chest.

"Aww, Izzy, you're just upset because you just now realized how lame your fiancé actually is."

Isabelle started to say something when Clary decided to jump in and diffuse the situation.

"Alright, pick on Simon time is officially over."

Sebastian whined and mumbled something inaudible under his breath. Jordan must have heard him because he chuckled and half-heartedly punched Sebastian in the arm. Sebastian returned his grin.

"So, has anyone actually met this guy?" Simon asked.

They all grunted 'No' and Simon shrugged in response. Clary felt a hand on her lower back and craned her neck to see who it was.

"You will all find out soon enough. Have a little faith in me," Jem smiled, looking down at her with affection in his eyes.

A loud clap resounded in the closed in space drawing their attention to their manager, Luke Garroway, who appeared before them all. He was dressed in pair of relaxed jeans and a flannel shirt, as always, and his curly mop of hair had gotten a lot more unruly since the last time Clary had seen him.

Luke removed his glasses and began wiping them on the hem of his shirt as he spoke. "Are all of you ready?"

He received a chorus of moans and took that as a 'Yes' from each of them.

"Good," he stated as he pushed his frames back onto the bridge of his nose. "Let's get a move on it, then."

They all paused for a brief moment, their eyes scanning each other and taking in the sentimental notion that this would be the last time that all of them would be together like this. Jem was really leaving and things were never going to be the same. Clary's heart constricted at the thought and she had to work hard against the tears stinging the backs of her eyes. If she cried, Magnus would surely have a fit.

She sighed exaggeratedly, "Come on. Let's get this over with."

And with that said, the rest of her band busied themselves with their instruments and last minute preparations. All except for Jem, who remained at her side. She could feel his eyes on her but she refused to look at him. Because if she did then she wouldn't be able to stop the flow of emotions that were threatening to overtake her.

"Here you go," Isabelle said as she handed Clary her golden Rode microphone. She eyed Jem for a moment before looking back at her friend. "Do you want something to drink before you go on stage?"

Clary shook her head as she continued to stare off into space. She was trying to clear her thoughts and she just needed some silence. Isabelle seemed to understand because she left without another word. Suddenly two firm arms wrapped around Clary's petite frame and pulled her into a hard, unyielding figure. She smelled Jem instantly and sagged into his embrace, still fighting back the water brimming at her lids. If she closed her eyes right now they would spill over the edge.

"I'm going to miss you," he spoke into her hair.

She could hear his heart beating steadily against his ribcage and his grip tightened. Clary slipped her arms around his torso and rested her trembling hands at his back, her right one still clutching tightly to her mic.

"I'll still be around, ya know?" he continued.

She nodded into his chest. It was the best she could do at the moment.

Jem sighed, "Please don't be upset with me, Princess."

There was silence, and then: "I'm not."

Jem released an exasperated huff of relief and squeezed Clary tighter before dropping his arms.

"Thank you." He pressed one last kiss to her forehead and then moved away from her to collect his guitar.

Clary sucked in a deep breath, held it for a moment, and then released it slowly before following the rest of her band onto the stage. It was eerily quiet as they stepped into the darkness. When the lights flickered on, Alec took his cue and began to play a somber melody on his massive Korg keyboard. Six measures into the piece, Jem joined in, strumming lightly on the strings of his midnight blue Gibson Les Paul. Then Jordan's blood red Ibanez bass began a rhythmic, pulsing beat and shortly after that, Sebastian tapped one of his Zildjian cymbals before picking up the tempo with a cadence on his pearl white Gretsch bass.

She was surrounded by blinding lights and the sounds of her one joy, her true love. She reveled in the feel of the vibrations coming off of each instrument and took a minute to soak in the waves of song that flowed through the atmosphere. For just a few fleeting seconds, when she first took to the stage, she felt like it was just her and her boys and no one else existed. Not the fans, not the crew…no one. Those were her favorite moments.

And just like that, the moment passed and she began to vocalize the words that were so dear to her heart. The song they were playing was the very first compilation of notes and words that they, as a band, had ever played together. After that last chord was struck in the basement of her parent's house six years ago, The Clockwork Princess was born, and the five of them took off running together and never looked back. It represented the beginning of an era for them. And now it would represent something completely different: the end of a bond that was supposed to last a lifetime.

Clary poured her heart and soul into the lyrics that she felt so intimately, clinging onto every word as if they were her very life source. Her band played the notes and rhythms better than they ever had before. Because this was no ordinary performance for them, this was their goodbye to a cherished member of their family – to a life-long brother.

* * *

Don't forget to leave a review so I know if you guys like this or not! Thanks so much!


	3. Chapter 3

It's Sunday. You know what that means? A new chapter/update! Yaayy! :) This one has some action/excitement in it and should get your interests peaked even more...if that's possible. ;) Also, there's a surprise "guest" at the end of the chapter...see if you can guess who it is.

A shout out to rippingbutterflywings for helping me with my mistakes and for giving me ideas/feedback on this chapter. Thank youuu! You're awesome! (check out her stories...she's amaaaazing)

Warning: Rated M for language and sexual themes.

_Disclaimer: Cassandra Clare owns all of The Mortal Instruments characters. I only own this story idea, so please do not steal/copy/infringe...etc...my ideas. Thank you._

* * *

Chapter Three

_You send a message in the atmosphere and everyone starts running._

_The way you operate is so severe, so severe so cunning._

_You send a message in your beady stare and everyone starts running._

_Brooklyn is burning and by your side, by your side we're dancing._

_I feel the fire tonight, I hear, I hear the people cry._

_I see the people now, I got I got what the people want._

_(Brooklyn is Burning – Head Automatica)_

The song ended as a bittersweet disposition, hanging in the air almost tangibly. The silence that fell upon them was reverent but short-lived as the crowd of fans erupted into an earsplitting throng of praises. Clary looked across the masses with a sad smile on her face. Her eyes landed on her brother, Jonathon, and his wife, Kaelie. Jon was holding their 6 month old daughter, Seraphina, who was the perfect mixture of both of her parents. His pearly white teeth were shining through a smile so wide Clary thought his face might split. He had always been so proud of his little sister.

She stared at her brother and sister-in-law for a short time, admiring their inseparable bond. Jon had grown up so much since the days when he acted as roadie to their band. Back then his hair was always in disarray and his clothes were always a dirty mess. But then he met Kaelie, the beautiful and curvy blonde with icy blue eyes, and he fell hard in love. His demeanor and appearance had changed almost instantly and instead of his usually unkempt white-blonde hair, he cut it short and kept it neatly styled. In place of the band tees and grungy jeans, he wore crisp, clean designer jeans and stylish Polo's and button down shirts. He looked sharp and very much like their dad, Valentine.

Who, by the way, had just caught her eye as he was standing just behind Jon and Kaelie with his arm wrapped around her mom's narrow waist. Her dad and Jon were nearly identical; if not for the obvious age, difference they could have been mistaken for twins. They had the same white-blonde hair and dark, mysterious eyes, and the same tall and slender, yet muscular builds. Valentine Morgenstern always looked so put together, and, though he usually could be seen sporting top designer suits, tonight he wore a pair of casual slacks with a simple button down shirt in which he had rolled up the sleeves to his elbows. He looked very relaxed and at ease, especially with the beautiful redhead at his side.

Jocelyn was everything Clary hoped she would be as an adult. She encompassed grace and sophistication while still managing to remain down-to-earth and simplistic. Her red hair was far more tamed than Clary's but they had the same emerald green eyes, fair freckled skin, and petite frames, although her mom had a few inches – and a few curves – on Clary. Her mom was also an artist and loved the arts just as much as her daughter did.

Valentine and Jocelyn had what Clary thought was the perfect relationship. It was a subtle balance of respect, love, adoration, and lust. They valued each other's thoughts and opinions and never made a decision without consulting the other. They got along amazingly, and Clary couldn't even recall a time when she had heard them raise their voices at each other. And most of all, they were always in agreement with how they raised their children. They never went behind the other parent's back to dismiss their word on a matter. But because of that, Jon and Clary learned the importance of respect…and family.

Her spirit was lifted, just like that. Clary found herself in the perfect storm of emotions. The overwhelming sadness she had felt before was quickly fading, and in its place was a fondness for the incredible life she had been blessed with. Her family and friends were unbelievable gifts; she really could not have asked for a better network of security.

Her contemplation was interrupted by a steady, thumping hum resonating from Jordan's bass; Sebastian was keeping the tempo with his kick pedal and hi hat. Then Alec's fingers began to glide across the ivory and black keys of his instrument, and Clary's heart picked up at the recognition of her favorite song. It was one of the most difficult The Clockwork Princess had every written and played, but it was also the most outstanding once they'd nailed it down. She remembered why it was chosen for this occasion, because it was Jem's spotlight piece. He had a sick solo right at the intro, and after the first time they had played it live it had become a fan favorite as well.

The anticipation was taking over and her body became a live wire just waiting to spark. She trained her eyes on a crowd of screaming groupies and waited. She knew exactly what Jem's Les Paul sounded like when he struck the first chord – it was an unmistakable, beautiful sound. So when the high-pitched wail that resounded from off stage reached her ears, she couldn't stop her body from reacting with complete and utter shock at its foreign tone.

_Who the hell is playing Jem's solo?! _

She searched for the intruder but found no one, not even Jem. She glanced over at Alec, whose steely blue eyes were locked on hers, and mouthed the question that was plaguing her mind. Alec shrugged but never stopped his melody on the keyboard. Hoping Sebastian would be able to see something she couldn't from his high spot behind them, she spun on her heels to face her drummer. He was still tapping away but had an extremely puzzled look on his sharp features. Evidently he had just as much of a clue as she did.

Her last ditch effort was Jordan, and as she turned to ask him what was going on he beat her to the punch.

"What the fuck?" he whisper-shouted as he continued thumping on his Ibanez.

Clary's mouth hung slightly ajar as she slowly shook her head back and forth. Jordan's hazel eyes snapped up, peering over her shoulder and the motion grabbed her attention. The crowd's intensity grew, and she knew that the mystery guitarist had just made his presence known.

* * *

_Either I'm in heaven, or I'm in hell._

_Am I losing my mind, yeah, ('Cause I can't tell)._

_I've been waiting for answers for way too long._

_Seems I'm always waiting around._

_Spiders in my head, spiders in my mind._

_You may take my eyes, but baby I'm not blind._

_It all works out in time, you know I'm gonna be alright._

_You may take my eyes, but baby I'm not blind._

_(Spiderhead – Cage the Elephant)_

_Himeros_.

Her shock grew, as did her gaping mouth, and she was once again frozen in place by the golden god. He glided onto stage with his gold Fender Stratocaster draped across his hard, muscular chest, his long fingers caressing the strings and dancing along the neck. She could still feel them on her skin. His soft curls hung in his golden eyes as he gazed down at his guitar in concentration, a small crease had formed between his brows and his tantalizing lips were pressed into a firm line, with a slight lift at the corner of one side.

A black t-shirt had never looked so sinfully appealing before.

Clary's mouth snapped shut. What was she doing? She needed to get her shit together. Never before had she lost focus while on stage and she wasn't about to let _Himeros_ be the cause of her losing it now. No matter how sexy and alluring he seemed to be, he was also infuriating. He tricked her – _Jem_ tricked her. Like hell she was going to let both of them affect her this way and get away with it. She lifted her mic to her lips and launched into the lyrics of the song, feeling every word that passed through them.

She had to admit, _Himeros_ was rocking this song…maybe even better than Jem.

_NO! That is not going to happen. This is not going to happen._ _This is _my_ band and I have every right to veto a member of it. _

And that was exactly what she was going to do, right after this performance. There was no way in hell _he_ was going to be part of The Clockwork Princess.

The crowd exploded into an uproar of cheers, their enthusiasm emanating throughout the club. Clary was stunned by the reaction. She had not expected them to be so accepting of Jem's replacement. Why couldn't they see that he was all wrong for her? For_ them_…all wrong for them.

She was suddenly engulfed in a warm embrace. Jem's scent surrounded her. Before she could react, three other warm, solid, sweaty bodies pressed up against her in a suffocating hug. She couldn't see anything. She could only hear their heavy breathing and the crowds muffled chanting. But she felt absolute peace.

The five of them made their way off stage and into the backstage area where the intensity from before grew. All of their families and friends were awaiting them with smiles and teary eyes. Clary's parents rushed to her side and drew her into a hug, mumbling about how proud they were of her and how Jem leaving wasn't going to affect the band in a negative manner. Jon and Kaelie, and baby Seraphina, were right behind them showing her their support and offering encouragement and affirmations as well. And she needed it. God, she needed it so badly.

"That was awesome!" Isabelle piped up next to her.

Clary turned to face her friend and noticed that she was smiling from ear to ear. And so was Simon. She looked around the room to survey her other friends and realized that they were all smiling too. Was this a happy time for all of them? Weren't they losing someone they all loved dearly? And why did she sound like Jem died and they'd never see him again? She shook the thought from her mind.

And that's when her eyes landed on _him_. She set her posture and narrowed her eyes before stomping off towards him. He was standing across the room talking with Luke and Jem…and he was _smiling_.

_How dare he smile?_

"_YOU_!" she growled as she crossed her arms over her chest.

The three men ceased their conversation and look at her with furrowed brows. _His _smile grew.

"Hey there, Pepper."

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" she spat.

"I'm not sure what you mean by that." He chuckled.

"You tricked me!" she yelled incredulously as she flung her arms out to her sides and let them drop with a _thud_ against her thighs.

His smile fell. "No I didn't."

"Yes you did!" She was sure her face was bright red at that point.

"No, I didn't," he reiterated. "I just failed to mention some helpful information to you."

"Helpful? _Helpful_!"

She was beyond livid now and she was just about to lay into him with everything she had when Jem placed a gentle hand on her arm.

"What's going on, Princess?" he asked.

Without looking in Jem's direction, Clary answered. "_He_ cannot join Clockwork Princess."

Jem's hand dropped. "Why not?"

"Because, I have veto rights, and I veto him." She was being stubborn.

_Himeros_ rolled his eyes and Clary glared daggers at him.

"Why would you want to veto him? Did you not just hear him? He's amazing."

Clary didn't respond but felt her blood begin to boil over as _Himeros_ smiled at her smugly.

"Did something happen?" Luke spoke up in concern. He was always such a Papa Bear.

Silence.

"Clary,"Jem spoke again. "What happened with Jace?"

Her hatred stare aimed towards _Himeros_ broke and she looked over at her guitarist.

"Jace?" Her big green eyes sparkled with confusion.

"That's my name, Jace Wayland."

She slowly looked back towards the bane of her existence and surveyed him once again. _Jace Wayland. His name is Jace. Jace is a sexy name. Dammit, Clary!_

"I think there may have been some…miscommunication," Jace spoke through her thoughts.

"No." Clary interrupted. "There was no 'miscommunication' at all. You intentionally failed to mention that you would be our new guitarist, something that would have been _extremely_ 'helpful' earlier."

"Earlier?" Jem asked.

"Yes!" she cried out as she looked at her friend with wide eyes. "When he hit on me!"

Jem's head snapped in Jace's direction. "You _hit_ on her?!"

Jace raised his hands up in defense. "Yes. But I don't see why this is such a big deal."

"Are you fucking kidding me?!" Clary cried out again.

"Why is it so wrong of me to hit on you? You're gorgeous." Jace began. "And if I _had_ told you who I was, would you have danced with me?"

"Of course not!"

"See, that's why I didn't tell you."

She stared at him, her chest heaving as she tried to calm her racing heart. His eyes didn't waver from hers. The tension was so thick it was making it hard to breathe. _Why is it so damn hot in here?_

"Okay," Jem broke the silence. "I think that we're all just overreacting a bit."

Clary threw her glare towards him and he flinched slightly in reaction to it.

"I just don't think that Jace hitting on you is a good enough reason _not_ to have him in the band. He's an exceptional guitarist and a perfect fit for Clockwork Princess. He knows every one of our songs, Clary. You won't find talent like his anywhere else. Trust me, I've looked."

Clary felt deflated. Jem was right; Jace was talented. And the vibes did feel right on stage when he was playing with them. But still, she needed a solid reason to ditch her veto against him.

"It's not just my choice," she stubbornly replied with her chin in the air.

"Alright," Jem drawled out. "Then let's see how the guys feel about him."

"I think he's fucking awesome," Sebastian's voice floated in from behind her. "And that's saying a lot coming from me."

"True." Jem agreed with a nod. "What about you, Alec?"

Apparently the guys had been close by during their argument. Come to think of it, Clary could recall now how the room became very quiet during the whole ordeal. So everyone heard what had just happened. Even her family…_Lovely_.

"He is talented. And if you think he's what we need, then who am I to disagree?" Alec replied.

_Just fucking lovely._

"Jordan?" Jem hesitated.

Clary turned to face her last hope. Her eyes were large and pleading. Green met green and she held him there. His face was hard to read, but she had a creeping suspicion that he was going to betray her.

"Red," he began. "Jem's right. Jace is the right fit for our band."

She sighed and lifted her hands only to drop them back to her side in exasperation.

"Fine." She turned and looked at Jace. "You can join The Clockwork Princess."

His smile lit up and an audible sigh came from Jem.

"BUT," she added. "No more hitting on me."

Jace's face fell.

"Ever."

She turned on her heels to exit the room, grabbing ahold of Isabelle's arm as she passed by her.

"So, he's the one you were dancing with?" Isabelle whispered. "He's hot!"

"Iz," she warned.

"Like, really _fucking_ hot."

"Seriously."

"I mean, he's the sexiest guy I have ever laid eyes on up close."

"You might want to stop right now."

Isabelle giggled.

"Clare?"

Clary stopped dead in her tracks, Isabelle nearly slamming into her at the abruptness of her action. Clary's heart thudded in her chest, deafening her ears. That voice…why was he there?She looked up and all she could see were those entrancing violet eyes.

_Lovely, indeed._

* * *

Thank you for reading! :) Please leave a review.


	4. Chapter 4

First off, thank you so much for the reviews and follows/faves! Y'all are spectacular! Seriously. :)

Chapter Four! Yay! So this one introduces a new character and long with him, some draaaamaaa...I hope you enjoy it. Things are just going to get crazier from here on out, so hold on and enjoy the ride!

Thank you sooo much to rippingbutterflywings for being so awesomely awesome and beta'ing this for me as well as listening to my rants every once in a while. :p

Warning: Rated M for language and sexual themes.

_Disclaimer: Cassandra Clare owns all of The Mortal Instruments characters. I only own this story idea, so please do not steal/copy/infringe…etc…etc…my ideas. Thank you._

* * *

Chapter Four

_I still think of you _

_And all the shit you put me through _

_And I know you were wrong._

_(Think of You – MS MR)_

She was astonished. She couldn't think clearly; hell, she could barely even breathe. _What the hell is he doing here?!_ He was supposed to be gone, out of her life forever. Why couldn't he just stay away? Did he know he was torturing her? He must have known. That was the only logical explanation. Why else would he just show at her show unannounced? If her brother saw him…

"What the hell are you doing here, Herondale?"

_Oh shit._

Jonathon's voice broke the trance, and Clary's heart raced into hyper drive.

"I came to see my girl, _Morgenstern_."

_Double shit._

"_Your_ girl?!" Jordan exclaimed.

"I think you lost that right when she dumped your cheating ass," Sebastian chimed in.

_This is not good._

"That was a misunderstanding."

"Excuse me?!" Jonathon's voice raised an octave as his brows shot into his hairline.

"A misunderstanding?" Jordan echoed, crossing his arms over his chest.

Will nodded once, his jaw set.

"What part was misunderstood?" Sebastian inquired. "The part where your dick was in some other chick or the part where Clary ripped you a new one and left your ass speechless in front of all of your friends?"

"Both," Will stated through gritted teeth. His fists were balled tightly at his sides.

"Will." Clary finally found her voice.

His eyes dropped to hers. His jet-black hair was hanging in front of them like a thin veil, making the mystifying color stand out like beacons of light.

"What are you doing here?" Her voice sounded shaky. She didn't like that.

His posture relaxed and his fists loosened. "I came to see you. I heard you were playing here tonight."

He was wearing her favorite shirt. The fitted, deep blue one that enhanced his eyes – no wonder they were so bright tonight.

"_Why_ did you come? We broke up." She was on the verge of tears; she could feel it.

"I wanted to talk to you about that," he softly spoke.

His voice still got a reaction out of her. How? He broke her heart. He shouldn't have _any_ effects on her.

"There's nothing to talk about." She dismissed him, lifting her chin slightly in defiance.

He reached out and brushed a hand down her arm with a feather-like tenderness. A trail of goose bumps followed along its path.

_Shit._

"You look beautiful, as always."

How could he sound so heartfelt when he was clearly speaking bullshit? Clary closed her eyes, trying to contain the tears.

"Can we go somewhere more private?" Will asked. "Like, maybe my place? Or yours?"

"Hell no!" Jonathon intervened.

Clary was shaking; her resolve was quickly crumbling. She had worked so hard over the last couple of months to put up this wall, and now _he_ was in front of her threatening to knock it down again.

"I didn't ask you, Morgenstern!" Will spat with rage as his posture became rigid again.

She had to do something. If she didn't, there would be bloodshed.

"No, Will." Her voice was steady and firm.

The boys grew silent. She looked up at the man that was causing so much turmoil inside of her.

"What?" He sounded shocked, hurt almost, as his eyes grew in size and his shoulders dropped.

"No. I won't go anywhere with you. We broke up, so there's really nothing to talk about."

"Come on, Clare." He began to plead. Will didn't normally plead.

"You heard her, Will." Jordan's voice sounded threatening.

Will looked up at the group surrounding them and his features became controlled and menacing once again.

"Oh, I see how it is." His voice remained calm. "You're all afraid that I'm going to steal the _Princess_ away from you. Is that it?"

"Will," Clary pleaded in desperation, but he continued anyway.

"You know that if she's with _me_, then none of _you_ can have her."

"Will, that's enough." Jocelyn's commanding voice pierced Clary's ears like a salvation.

She had almost forgotten that her parents were still there. That _other_ people were still in that room.

"Son, I think it's time for you to go now." Valentine was suddenly next to Will with his hand on his shoulder, attempting to remove him from the intense situation. Will stood his ground.

"Clare, please." It was his final plea. His eyes held desperation. She had to look away.

Clary closed her eyes and shook her head fractionally. She wouldn't do that to herself. She _couldn't_ do that to herself, not again.

"Fine," he stated. "But we're still going to talk about this." It wasn't a question.

She looked up at him in confusion. His violet-blue eyes softened, the way they always did when he was being sincere with her, which was rarer than she'd cared to admit.

"I meant it when I said I was sorry. I don't want to lose you."

And then he was gone. As quickly as he'd shown up, like a wrecking ball, he was gone.

* * *

_Maybe we're just sleepwalking…_

_Visions of better times, kingdoms and lilac wine,_

_Why did God fail to improve us?_

_Teardrops of acid rain burning down through my veins,_

_Can't I just sleep for now?_

_(Sleepwalking – The Chain Gang of 1974)_

Two days had passed since the incident at Pandemonium. The band was gathered in Clary's basement – turned studio – to practice for the show they had on Friday. It would be the first time since The Pandemonium Club that they played with Jace. It's not that he didn't know the songs, because he did; they just needed to iron out the feel of playing with a new member. They needed to make sure that the vibe they had felt on stage that night was real and not just due to their emotions running high. And by _they_, they actually meant _her_ – Clary.

He didn't know why she was so pissed at him. Okay, so he _did_ flirt with her, and he did get a little _personal_ while they were dancing. But was that really a reason to despise him? At least he was charming; he didn't feel her up too much, not like he would have done with other girls, _and_ he had told her she was gorgeous. _Seriously, what the fuck?!_

Jace looked across the room to where Clary was pacing. She was twirling a lock of auburn hair around her finger and chewing on her full bottom lip rather harshly – God, how he had wanted to kiss those sexy lips that night at Pandemonium. The small crease between her brows concerned him though. He didn't like seeing her in a state of distress. He wondered briefly what was wrong before he realized exactly what the problem was.

_That douche, Will._

Clary obviously had a history with the guy, and from the sound of things that night, it was a pretty rocky one. It also sounded like the dumbass had cheated on her.

_Why the hell would anyone want to cheat on Clary? She's talented and smart and funny and very feisty and_ _oh so very sexy…_

"Are we ready to start?" Sebastian bounded down the stairs.

Clary stopped pacing as he approached her with a bottle of water and the Tylenol she had requested.

"Here, babe," he breathed as he gently placed the pills in her palm and smoothed his hand over the back her head.

Jace had noticed over the short time that he had spent around the band, that the guys showed great affection towards Clary. It was nice to see. But sometimes, like now, their actions made him question their motives. Clary was gorgeous, he hadn't been lying about that, and it wouldn't surprise him at all to find out that at least one member of the band had a thing for her; he certainly did.

Since the first time he saw her perform on stage, he was blown away by her presence. She commanded the attention of everyone in the audience, even though she was barely over five foot and probably weighed no more than 110 pounds soaking wet. But damn if she wasn't extraordinary. Jace knew that night that he was smitten by Clarissa Morgenstern. Her voice was on constant replay on his iPod and her photos plagued his Google search history. He just couldn't get enough.

"Jace?"

A sweet and melodic voice broke his reverie. His eyes focused back on the present and they were met by startling green irises surrounded by a halo of bright red tresses.

"Yeah?"

"I asked if you were ready to play now."

"Oh yeah, absolutely. I'm ready when you are." He had become a rambling idiot. _Great._

"Awesome." Sebastian stated. "Let's do this shit!"

He twirled his sticks and then wood met nylon as they struck the heads of his snares. Jordan joined in with a steady beat as Alec began to carry the melody. Then Jace came in on his cue as he melded into his Fender Strat, and Clary's angelic voice carried over them all. This was where he belonged, with his guitar in his hands, surrounded by insane talent and good people. This was his dream. This was what he had worked his entire life for.

Roughly six hours later, they were calling it quits for the day. Jace was exhausted, and he knew the rest of them had to be as well. Clary was a hard worker; she meant business and she didn't screw around when it came to her music. Jace liked that about her. Of course what he _didn't_ like were her rules. Take for instance her 'No distractions during rehearsals or prior to show time' rule. That meant no girlfriends, no friends – no one. Period. And then there was the 'No dating bandmates' rule she had established primarily for herself. He didn't like that one at all.

"I want some food," Jordan growled. "Let's order Chinese. Who's in?"

"Not me," Sebastian said.

Everyone looked at him expectantly.

"What? I've got a date with Aline."

"Aline?" Alec asked in puzzlement.

"I thought Aline was a lesbian," Jordan stated.

"She's bisexual," Sebastian clarified.

"And she's going out with _you_?" Jordan asked as one thick brow arched.

"Well, we're not so much _going out_ as we are…_staying in_," he said with a devilish grin.

"Okay, we don't need to know." Alec dismissed him with a shake of his head.

"And she invited a friend," Sebastian added with a mischievous glint in his eye.

"_Really_ don't need to know," Alec reiterated, glaring this time.

"She's supposedly really hot too," Sebastian pushed, his grin growing even more.

"Okay, okay!" Clary cried out. "Seriously, Seb! We don't want to know about your lesbian threesome!"

Sebastian laughed hysterically. Then he embraced Clary in a hug before placing a kiss to her forehead.

"See ya later, _babe_."

"Ugh! Quit calling me that, dammit!"

Sebastian laughed harder as he made his way out the basement door. Clary walked over to the sofa and plopped down with a huff.

Jace was oddly amused by these people. The way they acted around each other was somewhat comforting. They were really a family. He was ready for a family.

After Sebastian left, Jordan turned to the remaining three members of his band.

"So," he drawled. "Chinese?"

"I'm in," Jace replied.

"Me too," Alec countered.

"Red?"

Clary hesitated for a moment, but then replied with a quick "Sure."

Jordan smiled, "Great. Where's that take out menu?"

"Upstairs, in the kitchen, look in the drawer at the end of the island." Jordan took the stairs two at a time.

Jace stretched out on the sofa next to Clary, leaving enough space between them as to not make her uncomfortable. Alec was still standing by his keyboard and appeared to be texting someone. When he turned and started walking away, Clary sat up abruptly with a starteld look on her face.

"Where are you going?" she asked, a little hastily.

Jace thought she sounded panicked. Did she not want to be alone with him?

Alec glanced over at them in confusion.

"I'm just going upstairs to use the restroom," he slowly stated.

"Oh," Clary sighed. "Okay."

When she sat back against the cushions, Jace glanced sideways at her.

_What the hell is up with her?_

With Alec gone the room had grown uncomfortably silent. Jace could do silence, in fact, he usually didn't mind it…but he didn't care for discomfort at all, it made him fidgety.

_What is taking Jordan so long with that damn menu?_

"Sorry about the other night," Clary said, finally breaking the silence.

Jace stared at her for a moment until she looked over at him. Her green eyes shimmered.

"For what?" he asked, turning his body towards her just a fraction.

"For my behavior towards you…and for Will." She hung her head and stared at her freckled hands.

"Seriously, you have nothing to apologize for. Your reaction towards me was justified, I know that now." He assured her. "And, as for that prick…well…you shouldn't apologize for him either."

Clary softly shook her head, her silky curls bounced around like a willowy curtain.

"Hey," Jace began.

He reached out towards her and placed his hand gently under her chin, turning her face to look at him. He stared into her emerald eyes for just a minute, making sure he had her full attention.

"You have _nothing_ to be sorry for. I mean it."

Clary smiled, but Jace could tell her heart wasn't in it. They held each other's gazes for what seemed like an eternity. Jace felt a gravitational pull towards her and Clary's eyes grew fractionally. A throat cleared from across the room, and Jace jumped back, releasing her face. He was mere inches from Clary's perfectly pouty lips and he hadn't even realized it. He looked up and noticed Jordan standing at the bottom of the staircase, menu in hand and a scowl on his face.

* * *

Please drop a review! Thanks so much. :)


	5. Chapter 5

It's update time! Whoo! This is a little bit of a filler chapter because I needed to introduce some background information in order to progress with the story line. I hope you enjoy it though. I've re-written it about a dozen times. ;p (sigh)

Anyhow...Thanks so so much to the lovely rippingbutterflywings! She not only beta'd this (& all the re-writes) but she has also been so patient with me by lending an ear when I've needed one. :)

Love you all! 3

Warning: Rated M for language and sexual themes.

_Disclaimer: Cassandra Clare owns all of The Mortal Instruments characters. I only own this story idea, so please do not steal/copy/infringe…etc…etc…my ideas. Thank you._ :)

* * *

Chapter Five

_Sometimes I wish I was brave._

_I wish I was stronger, I wish I could feel no pain._

_I wish I was young, I wish I was shy, I wish I was honest, I wish I was you, not I._

_'Cause I feel so mad, I feel so angry, I feel so callous, so lost, confused, again._

_I feel so cheap, so used, unfaithful._

_Let's start over, let's start over._

_(I Feel So – Box Car Racer)_

They had already destroyed the Chinese and were now three hours into the alcohol stash that Jordan found in Clary's pantry. Jace was buzzing – he was seriously numb, his head was hazy, and he found _everything_ funny. But he wasn't the only one. The other three were just as disorderly. Clary had claimed to pee on herself twice now, Jordan had fallen out of his chair – Jace didn't know how many times – and Alec was doubled over grasping his sides as tears streamed down his face. Jace couldn't remember what had been so funny. He thought that, by this point, they were just laughing at each other laughing and the initial reason had been forgotten.

He couldn't remember the last time he had laughed this hard, but he knew it had been too long.

"Oh my god!" Clary cried. "I need to lie down."

"No," Jordan firmly stated. "You're not going to bed yet."

"But I'm so tired," she whined as she sunk further into the cushions of the plush sofa.

"Well, suck it up, Pepper," Jace added and flashed his trademark grin.

She shot him a mock disgruntled glare and he chuckled in response. Clary was a funny drunk.

Silence befell them before Clary spoke. And, when she did, she was so quiet that Jace almost didn't hear her question.

"Himeros, have you ever been in a threesome?"

Jace choked on his beer. Had he just heard her correctly? He looked around the room and the expressions on the other two guy's faces were just as shocked as he felt. _Who the hell is Himeros?_

Clary rolled her head to the side to look at him, her big doe eyes glossed over. She was two sheets to the wind wasted.

"Um…" he began, feeling a little flustered.

"I'm sure you have." She answered for him, turning to face straight ahead again. "You're too hot _not_ to have had a threesome. It was probably with a couple of gorgeous, big-chested models, too."

Jace didn't know how to respond to that. Thanks?

"I've almost been in one," she openly shared without hesitation.

"Do you remember that festival we played in Cali, like, two years ago?" she asked to no one in particular. "We all got high off the smoke. That was crazy. Anyway, that's when Seb met Aline. He took her back to the bus, and I was tired so I went back early, and I walked in on them. I started to leave, but Aline asked me to stay…and Seb _wanted_ me to stay. I almost stayed. But…" She shook her head.

Jace looked at Jordan and Alec again. They didn't look surprised this time.

"But, I mean, it's not like Seb and I _haven't_ hooked up so…" She trailed off again.

Clary was rambling, an effect from the alcohol.

"Did you know he was my first?"

She was still talking to no one in particular, and Jace still continued to listen.

"I was in tenth grade," she began. "It was right after that douchebag dumped me. Do you remember that?"

She looked over at Alec and Jordan and they both nodded. Then she proceeded with her story.

"Anyway, Seb took me home after that party, 'cause I couldn't drive and he could. I was so upset. I just kept crying and I didn't understand. I thought it was _me_, but Seb said it had nothing to do with me. That's when he told me that he had always had a crush on me. Since, like third grade, he said. But, don't tell Jon."

She looked over at Jace in warning. He nodded, not sure if that was the alcohol or if Clary's brother would still get upset over something that happened nearly ten years ago between his sister and one of his best friends.

"He kissed me. And it was…" Clary sighed dreamily. "Seb is a really good kisser. So, one thing led to another and I lost my virginity to Sebastian Verlac – my brother's friend and one of the hottest guys in school – that night. Of course, it wasn't the only time. We dated for a while…until _you_ came along."

She looked over at Jordan who returned her glance with an unwavering gaze. It didn't go unnoticed by Jace. Something was definitely up between those two.

"Angel," Alec called to her, "I think it's time you stop drinking for the night."

She sighed, falling back against the cushion. "Jace, did you know that Alec was my first kiss? He was just _experimenting_, ya know, before he knew for real he was gay. We were in, what, sixth grade?"

Alec nodded. "And I wasn't using you for an experiment, Clary. I actually _did_ have a crush on you."

Jace watched as Clary gave Alec a small smile. Did she really have no clue how special she was?

"Okay," Jordan stood from his chair. "I think it's time _someone_ goes to bed."

"Who?" Clary asked, innocence lacing her voice as she looked up at him from under her lashes.

"_You_, Red," he replied. His expression was very sincere, and caring as his hazel eyes bore into hers.

"Nope," she said with finality, popping the 'p. "But I do need to go to the bathroom."

Clary jumped up from the sofa and stumble-ran up the stairs to the main floor. Jace sat in the midst of the silence, staring at a dark spot on the concrete floor. His head was spinning.

"So…have you _all_ had some sort of sexual relations with Clary?" he asked without looking up, his voice calm and restrained even though his insides were in turmoil.

When the room remained quiet, he slowly raised his head to see the other two men staring back at him.

"We've known her for a long time," Alec explained. "And Clary's amazing."

Jace nodded in agreement. "You don't think you're taking advantage of her though?"

"No. It's not like that," Alec said as he shook his head.

Jace wanted to believe him, so he let it go, even though it was hard. Anxiety was rising in his chest.

"So, it's just the three of you, right?" He was trying to calm himself down, but it wasn't working.

"Yeah, just us. Jem loves Clary too much to get into all of that…_confusion_. Plus, he was always with Tessa – from the time we met him – and they were always very serious."

Jace glanced over at Jordan, who had remained quiet. There was something in his eyes that he couldn't quite pinpoint. He wondered if there was more to their story than Clary had shared.

Deciding he was on information overload and needing to get out of there, he stood, crossed the room and ascended the stairs, leaving the other two men behind. Pulling on his leather jacket, he made his way through the living room to the front door but stopped when a flash of red caught his eye.

* * *

_How I wish you could see the potential, the potential of you and me._

_It's like a book elegantly bound but, in a language that you can't read, just yet._

_You gotta spend some time, Love you gotta spend some time with me._

_And I know that you'll find, Love, I will possess your heart._

_(I Will Possess Your Heart – Death Cab For Cutie)_

Clary was sprawled out on a beige colored ottoman in the middle of her living room. Her slender, shapely legs and thin arms were hanging off in awkward positions. Her vibrant auburn curls were fanned across the cushion beneath her head and her thin t-shirt had ridden up slightly, exposing her speckled, flawless hips and lower abdomen. She must have stopped there to sit for a moment and fallen asleep.

No matter how pissed Jace was at the moment, his anger wasn't aimed at Clary, and he couldn't just leave her there all night. Jordan and Alec could leave through the basement entrance and then Clary would sleep on the ottoman for the entire night in that extremely uncomfortable-looking position. _What if she fell? Or what if she got cold?_

Dropping his jacket on the sofa, Jace took two strides towards Clary's sleeping form, bent down, and scooped her up in his strong arms. She was so tiny and light, she felt like she barely weighed 110 pounds. And she felt so comforting and peaceful and soft in his arms. Jace stilled when she snuggled up to his chest, burying her face in the crook of his neck. Her scent was intoxicating – strawberries and lavender.

He wasn't sure which room was hers, so as he made his way up the staircase and down the hallway, he peered into each room until he found a bedroom at the end of the hall that looked extremely lived in. Original artwork covered the walls and a deep purple, satin comforter was draped across the King-sized bed with assorted decorative throw pillows adorning the top. Her overhead light was off, but the ornate lamp on the bedside table lit the room up with a soft glow. There were personal photos scattered about the large space – some in frames, some stuck to the walls. He wanted to look at them, but decided against it…this time.

He walked across the hardwood floors until he reached her bed. Easily shifting Clary's weight to one arm, Jace reached down and pushed several pillows onto the floor. Then he grabbed the top of the comforter, making sure to get the sheet too, and pulled it half way down the bed. He gently placed Clary's petite frame on top of the mattress, then covered her up. He looked at her for a moment, admiring the peaceful slumber she was under. He reached out and brushed a group of rogue curls away from her porcelain face.

_God, she's beautiful._

He didn't know why he reacted the way he had downstairs, he just did. Maybe he felt like he needed to be the one to protect Clary from them…from herself. Or maybe it was just pure jealousy. Then again, it could have been all the alcohol – he definitely had his fair share of it. But whatever the reason, Jace lost his cool and allowed his temper to detonate on his bandmates – over a girl that wasn't even his.

_Get your shit together, Wayland._

Clary sighed and touched Jace's hand, wrapping her slender fingers around it. He stilled, unsure if he should pull away or not. He didn't want to pull away, but he also didn't want to stand by her bed all night. And she'd probably freak like hell if she woke up with him _in_ her bed the next morning – so that's what led him to carefully retrieve his hand from her tender grasp. She whimpered softly and her bottom lip puckered slightly. Jace smiled. He wished she knew how special she was, how treasured she should be, how loved she deserved to be. With a sigh, he turned and walked out of her bedroom door – but not before taking one last, lingering glance at the beautiful redhead lying peacefully in her bed of dreams.

* * *

Please leave a review and tell me what you think! I love reading them. :) 'Til next time!


	6. Chapter 6

Another update! Whoo! You get a tiny bit of Clace in this one. :) Enjoy, you beautiful people!

Thanks so much to the darling rippingbutterflywings for beta'ing this.

Warning: Rated M for language and sexual themes.

_Disclaimer: Cassandra Clare owns all of The Mortal Instruments characters. I only own this story idea, so please do not steal/copy/infringe…etc…etc…my ideas. Thank you._

* * *

Chapter Six

_Gave you a minute when you needed an hour _

_Just to push it aside, instead of leaving it behind you._

_If any word that I said could have made you forget _

_I'd have given you them all, but it was all in your head._

_And we're burning all the bridges now _

_Watching it go up in flames and then we'd build it up again._

_And we're burning all the bridges now _

'_Cause it was sink or swim and I went down, down, down._

_(Bridges – Broods)_

A week had passed. They were now in Pittsburg, and it was the day of their first full-length show with Jace as The Clockwork Princess's new guitarist. Clary was a nervous wreck. Not because she didn't think he could do it – because he had proved that he could – but because she had never performed with anyone other than Jordan, Sebastian, Alec, and Jem. And now Jem was gone. But she trusted Jace –he was professional and very talented – music was his passion. Just like it was hers.

She was extremely jittery. Maybe she should have quit after that third cup of coffee.

"Damn, I'm so nervous."

Clary looked to her right and found Jace standing next to her; he was bouncing on the balls of his feet and watching the roadies put the set together on stage. They were almost ready for their sound check. She took a moment to observe Jace, because she didn't take enough time to appreciate his golden god-like looks and they deserved to be appreciated.

At the moment, he was dressed in a black tank top and a pair of red track shorts. His tattoos were on display, as were his tantalizing muscles, and they made her mouth water and her lower abdomen twist into knots. His sunny blonde hair was all awry in wild, sexy, alluring waves around his head, and a black baseball cap sat backwards atop them. He was really working the backwards cap angle.

_Dammit! Why does he have to be so gorgeous? I just wanna…_

She had become slightly distracted while watching Jace chew on his luscious bottom lip that she didn't realize Isabelle was calling her name.

"Izzy's calling you."

Clary blinked. "What?"

She looked up and noticed that Jace was looking at her with that damn smirk plastered to his lips. Had he caught her staring at him? Probably, and she was pretty sure she drooled a little during her lust fest too. Her cheeks grew warm under his scrutinizing stare.

"Izzy," he said, throwing his thumb over his shoulder. "She's shouting your name…and she sounds like a fucking banshee."

Clary giggled and earned a smile from Jace. Those honey orbs lit up with life.

"I'll go see what she wants before the whole crew goes deaf."

"Good idea." He winked at her.

Clary shook her head, with a smile still on her lips, and headed in the direction of her best friend.

Isabelle was furiously typing away on her phone by the time Clary reached her; a miniscule crease had formed between her perfectly sculpted brows. Her midnight eyes were focused intently on the words scrawled across her screen and her full, red lips were turned down a bit at the corners. Isabelle was beautiful – beautiful didn't begin to describe the raven beauty – and she knew it. She worked hard to keep her model-like body in impeccable shape and she didn't shy away from displaying it to the world. The outfit she currently wore would cause Clary to blush seven different shades of red.

She still had trouble grasping how her other best friend could've ended up with a woman like Isabelle Lightwood. But somehow, Simon – the geeky, clumsy, gamer tee wearing boy with glasses, who could barely speak to any girl other than Clary – had managed to capture the guarded heart of the Greek Goddess (his words, not Clary's) and would be marrying her in less than three months-time – as soon as the tour ended, to be precise.

Clary had tried her best to convince Isabelle to have the wedding before then – they _had_ been engaged for almost four years, for crying out loud – but she insisted on waiting until _after_ the tour wrapped so that everyone could travel to the Bahamas with them and freely enjoy themselves without the pressure or worry of pending commitments.

"What's wrong?" Clary asked, observing her friend's scowl.

There was a pause before Isabelle answered."The caterers are trying to fuck with my menu. I'm about to blow my shit and fire them."

"Iz," Clary began, "are you sure you don't wanna take some time off to focus on the wedding?"

Isabelle's head snapped in Clary's direction; her eyes were the size of saucers and her mouth was gaping open like a fishes.

"I mean, only because the wedding is coming up soon and you've been trying to plan it while helping me. I can handle things without you for a couple of months. Promise."

"Clary," Isabelle sighed, "I _need_ to be here. Honestly. If all I'm doing is planning this wedding, I'm going to go insane and kill someone. I swear to god."

Clary eyed her for a moment before replying, "Ok, if you insist."

"I do." Isabelle smiled. "Now, onto more pressing matters – how are you feeling?"

Clary looked at her in confusion.

"The other night…" Isabelle sighed in frustration. "Clary!"

Clary rolled her eyes. "I'm fine."

"Are you sure? Because Alec said you said a lot of things – "

"I was drunk, Iz," she cut in.

"Exactly!" Isabelle countered. "And you revealed some pretty personal information. I mean, Jace was there he heard about you and…the guys, and stuff."

Clary looked scornfully at her friend. "And why does that matter?"

"Aren't you worried about what he'll think of you after all of that?"

"No," she said with a determined shake of her head. "Jace wouldn't judge me. He isn't like that."

"I hope you're right," Isabelle sighed as she looked at Clary in concern.

"I am." Although, she wasn't truly convinced herself, she simply hoped she was right.

Sound check advanced with only a few minor complications, but it was nothing that couldn't be worked out with very little effort. They sounded great – incredible, even. Jace really was a perfect match for The Clockwork Princess. Jem was right, again_._ He seemed to transition as if he had been playing with them for years instead of just mere days. Their sound was infinitesimally different with Jace's Fender versus Jem's Gibson, but it seemed to almost improve the quality and intensity of some of their songs. Clary felt conflicted.

The show was a massive triumph. The energy that exuded from each member of the band, and the hundreds of fans stretched across the amphitheater like a rolling sea, was intoxicating. Clary hadn't felt that elated in a long while. Every nerve in her body was sparking by the time the last note rang through the air as a heavenly descant. The smile plastered on her face wouldn't be leaving any time soon.

* * *

_Brainstorm, take me away from the norm, I got to tell you something – _

_This phenomenon, I had to put it in a song, and it goes like – _

_Whoa, amber is the color of your energy. Whoa, shades of gold displayed naturally._

_You ought to know what brings me here – you glide through my head blind to fear, and I know why – _

_Whoa, amber is the color of your energy. Whoa, shades of gold displayed naturally._

_(Amber – 311)_

The tour bus was buzzing with exhilaration, and the noise was a bit overwhelming as she stepped inside. She usually welcomed that type of racket, but at that moment all Clary wanted to do was find her room, remove the leather pants that now felt painted on more than usual, and turn in for the night in solitude. She began to ascend the staircase that would take her to the upper level of their bus, and essentially to her bed, when a soothing voice restrained her.

"Leaving so soon, Pepper?"

Clary looked over her shoulder and met the luminous, golden eyes of her guitarist – and guilty pleasure.

"Uh, yeah," she began, "I'm just not in the mood for all of the noise."

"Yeah, me neither," Jace said, glancing down for a split-second before reconnecting with her eyes again. "Can I join you?"

He must have noticed the look that struck Clary's eyes, because he began to back-peddle immediately.

"To talk," he stuttered. "Just to talk. That's it. I wasn't implying anything more."

Clary smiled, mildly amused by his reaction. "I know."

Jace visibly swallowed. Clary thought he looked nervous, though she couldn't understand why.

"Actually," she hesitated, shifting her eyes. "That…would be kind of nice."

Jace smiled brightly at her and she thought her knees would give out and drop her flat on her ass.

"Come on."

Clary proceeded up the stairway, knowing Jace was following closely behind. Her heart was fluttering about in her chest like a thousand butterflies, and her stomach insisted on doing summersaults over and over until she felt nearly nauseous. She couldn't figure out why this boy made her body do these things. She had experienced these reactions before, but never all at once, and never all from the same person. It was like The Pandemonium Club all over again.

They entered her box-like room at the end of the narrow hallway and Jace shut the door behind himself. Clary often felt claustrophobic in the small space, but she had tried to make it feel as open and airy as possible by adding cheerful colors and lots of lighting, and also some of her art. Plus she had a small, rectangular window over her bed that she opted not to cover so that natural light could shine through.

"I'm just going to step into the bathroom for a second to change out of these clothes," Clary explained as she grabbed a pair of yoga pants and a fitted tee.

"Okay," Jace replied, sitting down on her narrow bed. He looked around at her personal belongings and took in his surroundings as he made himself comfortable.

A few moments later, Clary emerged from her tiny bathroom with her wild hair pulled back, her face free of makeup, and her comfy clothes hugging her body like a warm blanket. She hadn't noticed before, but Jace was wearing a pair of sweats and a faded band tee, and his hair was slightly damp and tousled as if he had taken a shower earlier.

"Better?" he asked with a smile.

Clary bit her lip and nodded, taking a seat beside him on her bed and tucking one leg under her bottom. She could have sat on the loveseat that was situated against the opposite wall, but she figured he could have, too. Sitting on her bed, so close to Jace, made her pulse pound in her ears, and she wondered if he could hear the rapid beating.

"So," Jace drawled. "Did I do an acceptable job tonight? Or am I fired?"

Clary giggled. She had been doing that a lot lately. It wasn't exactly characteristic of her.

"You did just fine."

Jace's infectious smile grew. "Good to know I have your approval. I was worried for a second there."

She giggled again as a blush crept up her neck.

"So, who's Himeros?" he asked a bit hesitantly.

She looked at him in confusion, her brows slightly pulling together.

"You called me _Himeros_ the other night." His mesmerizing eyes were steadily locked on hers.

Clary's jaw dropped, causing her mouth to form a small 'O'. Had she really let that slip? Mortified, she looked down at her hands and tried to hide her crimson cheeks behind her ponytail.

"That was my nickname for you, before I actually knew what your name was."

She peered up at him through her lashes. The confusion still riddled his flawless features. She guessed that she needed to explain in further detail about the name so he would understand. Her eyes dropped.

"_Himeros_ is the god of sexuality." God, she felt like an idiot. She chanced another glance up at him.

Jace just sat there in contemplation before a hint of a smile formed at the corners of his glorious lips. Clary was thankful that he didn't push the topic, because he could have seriously humiliated her with her confession of her blatant attraction to him.

Silence hung between them in the air again, but it wasn't really uncomfortable. Not even a little.

"About the other night," Clary began.

Jace stopped her. "Don't."

She looked at him, somewhat shocked, as he shook his head.

"I want you to stop apologizing to me about everything. You don't owe me explanations for the things you say or do."

"But –"

"No." He looked at her. "I mean it. No more. Okay?"

Clary hesitated only a moment before nodding her agreement while gently wringing her hands in her lap. Silence fell on them again.

"Are you an artist?" Jace spoke, breaking the quietness.

Clary looked up at him and he continued.

"I noticed the sketches," he said, pointing at a black and white sketch she had framed and hung on the opposite wall. "I also noticed sketches and paintings in your house. They looked like original pieces."

"Um," she began, looking back at Jace. "Yeah, I do, and so does my mom."

Jace smiled and looked back at the picture. "You're really good."

Clary looked at her hands resting in her lap. At first glance, they appeared flawless – give for the dusting of freckles – but upon closer examination one could see the small, rough callouses, the smudged black stains, and the slight indent on the inside of her ring finger. They were artist's hands.

"Thanks," she sighed.

Jace leaned back on her bed, using his hands to support his body. Clary peered up and took notice of the nice cut of muscle winding from his shoulders down to his biceps and around to his forearms. He shifted his weight, which drew her attention to his chest and abdomen. Even with a shirt on Clary could see the definition and tone that lay beneath. Yup, Jace Wayland was too sinfully enticing for his own good.

"Can I ask you something?" Clary asked, her voice sounding a little weak. She tried to discreetly clear her throat.

Jace lazily looked over at her. "Sure."

Clary's eyes dropped back down to her hands before she glanced back up at Jace. Those honey-gold irises were going to be the death of her.

"Why don't you have a girlfriend?"

Jace's eyebrows rose and he sat up as he cleared his throat. "Um…"

"I only ask because it seems odd to me. I've yet to see you with a female friend. I mean, Jordan has Maia, and Seb is…sort of with Aline, even Alec has Magnus…" she trailed off. "Not that I care or anything, I'm just curious…that's all."

Jace was quiet for only a moment before he spoke. "I don't have a girlfriend because I've never been _that_ guy."

Clary looked up at him in hesitant confusion. "What do you mean?"

Jace sighed. "I've just never cared about commitments or relationships. It's always been about: What can I benefit from her? In and out, that's it. No ties, no bonds, no complications."

"But don't you want someone who is yours and yours only? Someone you can share things with and have a strong connection to?" She was getting in too deep.

Jace shook his head. "Not really. I mean, I never have before."

"So, does that mean you would now?" She was treading dangerous waters. She needed to be careful.

Jace sat forward, resting his elbows on his knees. "I dunno…I'd like to think I could. I mean, if I were to get into a commitment with someone, there's already someone I can definitely see myself being that way with."

Clary felt her lungs deflate and her heart crash. "So, why aren't you with her then?"

Jace looked sideways at her. His aureate eyes bore into hers and burrowed themselves into her soul, where they made themselves at home. She felt the palpitations they caused and she chastised herself for feeling that way when he obviously had _those_ feelings for someone else already.

"Because _she_ doesn't want that."

Clary was confused, as evidenced by her wrinkled brow. "How could she not?"

She caught the slip up a moment too late. Something flashed in Jace's eyes. She tried to recover.

"I mean…'cause you're a really cool guy. And you're obviously easy on the eyes – as evidenced by every screaming fangirl at our show tonight – and I just think that…that she would have to be an absolute idiot _not_ to want to date you." _Genius, Clary…real genius._

"I dunno," Jace smiled. "I could be wrong. Maybe I'll ask her sometime."

Clary smiled back at him, her cheeks flaming with heat, and all she really wanted to do at that very moment was crawl under a rock and hide for the next twenty years.

"Anyway." He offered to break the awkward moment. "So when did you start painting?"

And that was how they continued their night – sitting on her single bed, talking in a comfortable and friendly manner. They learned a lot about each other over the course of those next several hours, and Clary felt their friendship begin to blossom. She liked Jace Wayland, a lot, and she was really hoping their friendship would turn into something special – even if it only ever amounted to something purely platonic.

Jace was a peculiar person, and Clary felt that he had a lot of layers to get through in order to truly see the man he was at his core. But she was willing to put in the time and effort it took to peel those layers back. She really wanted to know him – like, really know him, down to the depths of his soul – and she was determined to do it. She would know everything there was to know about Jace Wayland.

* * *

Please leave a review! Thank you! 3

And FYI: I have a little surprise for [some] of you. Look for it in the next week or two. ;)


	7. Chapter 7

HAPPY MOTHER'S DAY! :D

Okay, so I want to start off by thanking my Anonymous reviewers. I'm not able to respond to your reviews, but I truly appreciate you reading this story and also taking the time to drop me a note. :) It means a lot.

Now, this chapter is un-beta'd, so all mistakes belong solely to me (I detest punctuation, btw). I tried to brief over it for any errors, but it's kinda hard to proof/edit my own writing. So, please forgive me. Hopefully the next update will be better.

This chapter gets a little wild towards the end, we finally get a glimpse into some of the struggles Clary goes through. I hope you enjoy it. Please don't shoot me. ;)

Warning: Rated M for language and sexual themes.

_Disclaimer: Cassandra Clare owns all of The Mortal Instruments characters. I only own this story idea, so please do not steal/copy/infringe…etc…etc…my ideas. Thank you._

* * *

Chapter Seven

_In a few weeks, I will get time to realize it's right before my eyes_

_And I can take it, if it's what I want to do_

_I am leaving, this is starting to feel like it's right before my eyes_

_And I can taste it, it's my sweet beginning_

_And I can tell just what you want; you don't want to be alone_

_(What You Know – Two Door Cinema Club)_

Two months had passed by since Jem left. Clary thought that she would still feel his absence, but oddly enough…she didn't, at least not in the way she expected to. Pittsburg had been a little tough because it had only been a weeks-time, but over the course of their travels the emptiness had begun to dissipate. They had already played along the eastern coastline – Detroit, Chicago, Memphis, Nashville, Charlotte, Atlanta, Orlando, New Orleans, and Austin – and were now in Phoenix.

Fortunately they had a day off after arriving in Arizona, because her bandmates were about to drive her out of her mind. Being forced to share a bus with five grown men and another grown – and highly demanding – woman was enough to make any sane person crack. Sebastian, Jordan, and Jace had found a pool hall not far from the hotel they had booked for the weekend and it was there that they had decided to spend their free time. Beer and billiards…Clary thought that made them sound like a bunch of frat boys.

She wasn't sure what Alec and Magnus had planned, but she knew that Alec had opted out of billiards and Magnus had politely declined her invitation to join Isabelle and herself at the spa. When Isabelle had mentioned their plans for the day, Clary had almost squeezed her in two from the strength of her hug, completely shocking the raven haired beauty. She usually detested Isabelle's spa days, but right now she needed it so badly.

They were in the middle of receiving pedicures, and Isabelle was telling Clary about the place settings she had found for the reception, when her phone began humming a catchy tune. Isabelle stopped mid-sentence in describing the pattern of the china.

"Is that Jem?" she asked, peering over Clary's chair.

Clary nodded as she lifted the receiver to her ear. "Hello?" she said, a little more chipper than usual.

The champagne the spa served to them was making her feel a little giddy.

"_Hey Princess," _the voice on the other end spoke.

"Hey, Jem!" Her face lit up as she shot up straight.

Jem chuckled. _"Are you drinking?"_

"It's just some champagne the spa gave us," she sighed into the phone as she relaxed back into her chair again. The woman working on her toes didn't miss a beat.

"_So, you're at a spa huh? Did Iz drag you there?"_

Clary giggled. "Yeah, we needed a girly day. Izzy said we deserved to have our asses pampered for once."

Jem chuckled again. _"So, where are the guys then?"_

Clary snorted. "They found a pool hall near our hotel and shouted something about getting drunk and robbing some poor, unsuspecting dumbasses."

Jem let out a howl of laughter. _"I pity the poor bastards they trick into playing them. I've never met anyone who can play pool better while intoxicated than Jordan and Seb. And from what I've seen of Jace, I can only imagine he's just as good."_

Clary's heart skipped a beat at the mention of Jace and she felt her cheeks heat up. Isabelle slapped her arm and she looked over at her friend in puzzlement, but Isabelle simply gestured to her own cheek and gave her friend a questioning look in response. Clary shrugged.

"_Speaking of Jace…how's he doing? Was I right? Is he perfect or what?"_

_He's perfect, alright._

"Um, yeah," she stammered. "J-Jace is good. He's doing well, um, fitting in perfectly actually."

"_Good." _She could hear the smile in his tone. _"Well listen, I can't talk long but I wanted to hear your voice and just make sure you're okay. I haven't heard from you since Florida."_

"I know, and I'm sorry that I haven't called. It's just, we've been so busy these last few weeks and –"

"_You don't have to apologize, Princess. I know how busy your tour schedule is, remember? Like I said, I just wanted to check on you."_ There was a pause. _"I miss you."_

Clary closed her eyes to contain the moisture that was building up behind her lids. "I miss you, too."

"_Don't cry, okay?"_ he sighed._ "I just wanted you to know that. And I also want you to know that I'll be at the show in San Fran. I'm flying out to meet with some magazine editor that weekend."_

Clary perked up. "Really? You're really going to be there?"

"_Yes," _Jem laughed. _"Maybe we can get together for dinner?"_

"Yes!" she cried out. "Yes. I would like that."

"_Me too…" _She heard a faint rustling on the other end and then, "_I've gotta go now. Will you tell the guys I said hi? And Iz, too?"_

Clary switched the phone to speaker and held it out towards Isabelle.

"Hey, Jem Bo!" Isabelle yelled a little too loudly at the phone.

Jem's laughter could be heard as the woman working on Isabelle's feet glared up at her.

"_Hey Izzy Pop! Take care of my girl for me, will ya?"_

"You know I will," Isabelle smiled at Clary. She returned the gesture before switching back to private.

"You two are crazy," she giggled.

Jem sighed on the line. _"Alright, Princess, I've gotta get going. Take care of yourself, okay?"_

"I will."

"_I'll talk to you soon, alright?"_

"Okay," she agreed. "Love you."

"_I love you too, Princess."_

The line went dead and Clary shut off her phone before lounging against the backrest. It was silent for a few minutes before she felt Isabelle's eyes on her. She slowly turned her head in the other girl's direction and waited for a lecture or some sort of harassment.

But Isabelle just stared expectantly.

"What?" Clary asked, raising her eyebrows.

"Are you going to explain?"

"Explain what?" _What the hell is she talking about?_

"Oh, come on!" Isabelle exclaimed. "Don't act like we haven't all noticed the 'golden god' leaving your room in the middle of the night for the past three weeks!"

Clary gawked. She immediately regretted ever telling Isabelle about her initial description of Jace.

"And what the hell was with the stuttering and blushing earlier? Huh?"

She didn't know how to respond. Isabelle was completely misreading the situation.

"It's not what you think."

"Really, Clary? Really?" Isabelle scoffed. "Cause it looks to me – and to the guys – that Jace has been leaving your room rather late _every night_."

"Yeah, but it's not like that!" Clary defended. "We're just talking. That's it."

"Talking?" Isabelle asked with a raised brow, sounding unconvinced.

"Yes! Talking."

"What are you talking about?" she challenged with a smug expression.

Clary thought she was being ridiculous, but she would humor her friend, none the less.

"We're just talking, you know, getting to know each other. Sometimes we just listen to music or watch movies on my laptop. Occasionally, he'll ask me to draw…but that's it! Nothing else happens."

"_Nothing?_" Isabelle drawled, sounding almost disappointed. "No kissing or hand holding? Or even cuddling?"

Clary looked at her friend incredulously. "No! What the hell, Iz?"

"I just thought…because you to have this chemistry…"

"We don't have chemistry, Izzy."

"Yes, you do."

Clary huffed and decided the argument wasn't worth it. Their pedicures were complete anyway and it was time for them to move to the massage room. She found that to be the perfect distraction to drop the subject before Isabelle pressed any further.

* * *

_I like the way you look in my town. I like the way you look on my street._

_I like the way you look in my house. I like the way you look in my sheets._

_I like the way you taste with a drink. I like the way you taste with a smile._

_I like the way you taste when I sing. I like it when it's been a while. I like it when it's been a while._

_Our night is lit by the city moon, and I see myself reflect on you, I know what I was meant to do._

_We're alive, alive. We're alive, alive. We're alive, alive. We're aviation high._

_(Aviation High Lyrics – Semi Precious Weapons)_

She walked through the door to her hotel room, kicked off her boots and collapsed onto the king-sized bed. Isabelle Lightwood absolutely exhausted her. A day that was designed for relaxation had taken a wild turn for the opposite with Isabelle drilling Clary about her "budding relationship" with Jace for the entire afternoon. She had thought the subject of her newfound friend would have been dropped after the girl's initial conversation on it…but Isabelle was never one to relent when her curiosity took over.

The brunette had asked every question known to man, leaving Clary's mind jumbled and her head aching. She didn't know how she felt about Jace. Hell, she really didn't even know how he felt about her. But what she did know was that they both enjoyed each other's company and that they found themselves gravitating towards each other every night.

It never failed – a knock would resound through her bedroom door about an hour after their arrival on the bus and Clary would call out for him to come in. Jace would gracefully slip through the doorway, quietly closing it behind himself and sprawling himself out next to her on the single bed. Then they would spend the better half of the night engaged in meaningful conversation or comfortable silence. Sometimes he would go back to his room and sometimes he would fall asleep next to her. Those were her favorite. She found herself craving those moments with Jace. They felt almost intimate in a way and they were precious to her. She hoped that they held some semblance of the same significance for him, too.

A knock at her door pulled Clary out of her reverie. Unsure as to who would be coming to see her, but hoping it was said guy, she rose to her feet and padded across the room to peer through the peephole.

Jordan stood on the opposite side.

She glanced over at the clock resting on the nightstand and eyed the red numbers that were telling her it was just after eight o'clock in the evening. She thought the guys would have been out much later than that, but maybe they'd used their better judgment and called it a night early. Reaching for the door knob and pushing downward on it, Clary granted her bassist entrance into her room.

Jordan swiftly entered, brushing past her without so much as a _hello_, and spun on his heels once he'd reached the center of the room. His dark brown hair was a shaggy mess atop his head and his jade eyes were wild and a little out of focus, probably due to the large amount of alcohol he most likely had consumed throughout the day. His chest heaved with breath as if he had run back to the hotel from the pool hall and had taken the stairs instead of the elevator.

"Are you okay?" she asked out of concern as she made her way across the room and paused just in front of her friend.

Jordan closed the distance between them. "What's going on with you and Jace?"

She was taken aback for just a moment before gathering herself again. "Nothing."

"Nothing?" His eyes searched hers for any indication of mistruth.

Clary nodded. "Yes. Nothing is going on. We're just friends."

"So, why is he in your room every night then?"

She sighed. So Isabelle was right, they had all noticed. "We just talk, Jordan. That's it. Just talk."

She half expected him to press for more information, but instead he took her by surprise when he grabbed ahold of her hips and pulled them roughly against his own. His right hand slipped around her neck, bringing her lips to connect to his in a deep and frantic kiss. Jordan gripped tightly to Clary's hip and she snaked her arms around his back, pressing her palms into his shoulder blades.

The kiss was full of uncontrolled desire and need. Jordan's tongue slipped past her parted lips and began to dance with her own. He tasted of whiskey – the flavor still lingered – adding to the fervor. He moved her backwards until the backs of her knees came into contact with the edge of her mattress. She lowered herself onto the bed, not once breaking the intensity of their kiss, and scooted her petite frame up the length of the mattress with Jordan crawling after her like an animal after its prey.

She briefly thought of Maia, Jordan's girlfriend, and the fact that she was enabling him to cheat on her at that very moment. Their relationship was already rocky enough but she didn't need to become another reason for them to argue. She and Maia usually got along well but there had always been harbored resentment aimed at Clary due to her close relationship with Jordan. She couldn't really blame her, though, she and Jordan did have a _slightly_ promiscuous past with each other.

Suddenly her head was swimming, her brain was muddled, and she couldn't form a coherent thought. She knew he was drunk, and she was pretty tipsy from the several glasses of champagne she'd had earlier, but that didn't matter. All that mattered at that moment were Jordan's hands on her skin and his tongue in her mouth. He grabbed at her with a rough tenderness and her body responded, as it always did to him.

She knew she should attempt to stop him – remind him of his girlfriend – but he had told her several days earlier that he felt their relationship was slipping from his grasp and he didn't know how much longer they would stay together. Apparently, an old friend of hers had come back into town after being M.I.A. for the past four years. Maia had been spending quite a bit of time with her friend, who also happened to be an ex-boyfriend, and Jordan was suspicious that their friendship wasn't quite as innocent as his girlfriend led him to believe. He had expressed to Clary his thoughts of ending their relationship before Maia could get the chance to…again.

His mouth moved from her lips to her neck, trailing open-mouthed, wet kisses along her collarbone and shoulder and affectively distracting her from her thoughts. Every so often he would bite the sensitive skin, eliciting a soft moan from her. Before Clary knew it, her shirt was removed along with her bra and Jordan's mouth was caressing the exposed flesh of her breasts.

To even the playing field, she tugged at the hem his t-shirt and pulled it swiftly over his head. That only deterred him for a moment before his lips were once again sucking at her skin, leaving little red marks all over her chest, the exact size of his mouth. Clary gasped at the tingly sensations he caused. Her slender legs wrapped around his narrow hips as her freshly manicured nails dug into the firm muscle of his back. Jordan growled and attacked more aggressively, driving her mad with desire.

His hands slid down her sides until they reached the top of her pants, where his fingers curled into the space between the fabric and her hipbones. Clary bucked her hips into his hardened member, which earned her another playful bite. Without bothering with the snap, Jordan tugged on the fabric and began to shimmy it down her thighs. She boiled with anticipation. It had been so long since he had come to her like this. His relationship with Maia had taken a more serious course nearly nine months ago – right after she had gotten back together with Will, for the third time – and ever since then, Jordan had kept his relationship with her strictly platonic and professional.

"Fuck, I've wanted you so badly," he growled between kisses. "I always want you. Always."

She hummed, unable to formulate an intelligent response as she hugged him closer to her body. She wanted to say she always wanted him too, but the words just wouldn't come. She had a brief, fleeting thought of Jace before it vanished away, lost in the muddled emotions she was feeling.

Just as her pants made it past her knees a loud tune exploded through the sexually charged atmosphere, startling them both. Jordan stilled instantly and looked into Clary's eyes. She saw a plethora of emotions within his: lust, want, need, annoyance, irritation…and guilt. As her chest rose and fell with each pant, she waited for a response from him.

"Fuck!" he spat as he buried his face between her breasts. The phone continued its incessant ringing.

Clary slipped her fingers into his hair, wanting to hold him there in hopes that he'd ignore his phone. But to her dismay, Jordan lifted his head and studied her face briefly again before speaking. "It's Maia."

And that was all she needed to hear as she released him and he rolled off of her body. She watched from her spot on the bed as Jordan stood to his feet, pulling his phone out of his pocket in the process and lifting it to his ear. She observed as his tattoos danced across his muscled arms and his bare back rippled with each movement he made.

"Hey My," he breathed into the phone as he ran a hand through his tousled locks. He had suddenly sobered up quite a bit.

Clary's heart clenched. She was jealous. It was unjustified, but she didn't care. It still hurt.

"Yeah, sorry, I was uh…I was in the bathroom." He glanced back at her, his eyes brushing over her naked torso and exposed hips and thighs. He bit his lip and quickly turned back around.

"No, it's fine. I'm not busy."

She flung her hands over her face as rejection and frustration settled in firmly.

"It was okay. How was _your_ day?" he asked as he bent down to grab his shirt and pull it back over his head. "That sounds cool. So, you two had fun?"

Clary kept her eyes on him as he walked around the bed and stood at the foot of it, his phone still pressed to his ear. His eyes jumped back to her and an apologetic looked washed over his features. She shook her head and threw an arm over her eyes as she let out a long, slow breath of defeat. She was only mildly aware of his absence by the subtle _click_ of the door locking behind his retreating form.

* * *

Alright, hopefully that wasn't too bad...right? :D Please leave a review (bad or good, I can handle it). I'll get back to them asap. Thank you so much!


	8. Chapter 8

_(sorry guys, I uploaded the unedited one by accident)_

Okay, so hopefully this chapter will answer some questions you might have. And, hopefully it will clear up some misunderstandings you may have had about Clary and Jordan and their intentions.

Anyway, I hope you enjoy it. :)

Thanks so much to rippingbutterflywings for taking the time to beta this for me. You're the best and I seriously hate bothering your right now. :)

Warning: Rated M for language and sexual themes.

_Disclaimer: Cassandra Clare owns all of The Mortal Instruments characters. I only own this story idea, so please do not steal/copy/infringe…etc…etc…my ideas. Thank you._

* * *

Chapter Eight

_I'm full of regret for all things that I've done and said,_

_And I don't know if it'll ever be ok to show my face 'round here._

_Sometimes I wonder if I disappear would you ever turn your head and look,_

_See if I'm gone 'cause I fear there is nothing left to say to you_

_That you wanna hear, that you wanna know, I think I should go._

_The things I've done are way too shameful._

_(Tangled – Maroon 5)_

Her stomach was in knots. It had been a week since her lascivious encounter with Jordan inside her hotel room in Phoenix. A week since she'd nearly had sex with him and aided him to cheat on his girlfriend. She felt like shit. How could she allow herself to succumb to that? Wasn't that why she broke up with Will in the first place? Damn alcohol. Damn hormones. Damn sexy Jordan.

She felt guilty, extremely guilty, and that guilt was causing a weird vibe between her and Jordan. It wasn't like they had never been together before, but it was always when they were both on _hiatus_ from their current relationships. They had never once cheated on their partners. It was sort of an unspoken vow between the two of them.

The guilt wasn't just from that, though. For some reason, she also felt deep regret in the pit of her stomach because of Jace. They weren't together, per se, but she still felt like she had betrayed him in some capacity. Their relationship was an odd one, but she loved it. She wanted more of it. More of him.

Jace had come to her room that night – after Jordan left – just like he always did. But he was so wasted that he basically dropped to her mattress and crashed. She watched him slumber in peace for a short while before she, too, gave into the lure of sleep. The next morning, they awoke wrapped around each other, as if they were one being dependent on the other for survival. It didn't bother them, though, because there was no embarrassment between them. Not anymore, at least. The first few times it had happened they definitely felt the awkwardness but, after falling asleep next to each other every night for nearly three months, it no longer felt uncomfortable. It felt right. It felt soothing. It felt…

"What's up with you?"

Clary's thoughts were interrupted suddenly by the voice of her best friend. She turned towards Isabelle, while still chewing aggressively on her bottom lip.

"Hmm?"

"You look like something's wrong. And you're going to wear a damn hole in your lip if you keep that up. What's going on?" Isabelle asked.

"Oh." Clary thought about whether she should tell Isabelle about what happened or not. "It's nothing."

"Bullshit," Isabelle countered. "I've known you for practically our entire lives, Clary, spill it."

Clary huffed, not really wanting to confess her dirty little secret to the Gossip Queen. Isabelle had, after all, earned that title rightly.

"You're not getting out of it, so you may as well tell me," Isabelle stated as she crossed her arms over her chest.

Clary dropped onto the couch in her dressing room. They were getting ready to run sound check and she didn't have the courage to hang around backstage with the rest of her band. So, she found herself hiding out, like a coward.

"You have to swear not to overreact."

"Ok."

"And, you have to swear not to breathe a word of this to anyone."

Isabelle nodded.

"Including Simon," Clary added warily.

Isabelle hesitated for the briefest of moments before nodding slightly in agreement. Clary drew in a deep breath and released it slowly. She felt the anxiety wash over her as she peered back at her friend.

"IalmostsleptwithJordan," she spewed out in a rush.

Isabelle just stared unblinkingly at her. "Excuse me?"

Clary inhaled and released again, then repeated her words more slowly. "I almost slept with Jordan."

Isabelle didn't waver and Clary eyed her once more, trying desperately to read her thoughts.

"So?" Isabelle began nonchalantly. "It wouldn't be the first time."

Clary felt a miniscule amount of anger rush over her. "Izzy!" She was supposed to reprimand her for acting foolishly.

"What?! It's true," she defended.

"Yeah, but…"

"But what?" Isabelle's big blue eyes looked at her with intrigue.

"He's dating Maia," she finished.

"Clary, he's been dating Maia for years. And I know for a fact that you guys have slept together within that time frame."

"Right," Clary agreed. "But, we were both always on break from our relationships when we did. Neither of us has ever cheated, at least not with each other. _I've_ never cheated."

"Okay," Isabelle drawled. "Still, what makes this time so different? Why are you so worked up about it? I mean, I thought you said that he and Maia were having problems and that they may break up anyway."

"Yeah, but that still doesn't excuse us to have sex with each other while he's still with her!"

"Clary, Jordan likes you. He always has. And I'm pretty sure that you like him, too. I mean, he was the reason you and Seb broke up all those years ago, right? You two have some sort of strange…dynamic."

"What's your point?"

"My point is that it wouldn't be the end of the world if you and Jordan did end up together…even if it's due to him cheating on Maia and them breaking up because of it."

"It doesn't matter. I won't do it. Not after everything that's happened with Will. Plus, I have that rule."

Isabelle huffed in irritation. She always hated Clary's rules.

"Besides," Clary continued. "Who says that Jordan's the one I want to be with?"

Isabelle's head snapped towards Clary. Her eyes were wide in shock. "Are you saying…"

Clary smiled back at her friend. A giddy feeling washed over her. Isabelle's face lit up.

"So, what are you going to do about it?" Isabelle asked with bright, sparkling eyes.

And just like that, the feeling was gone. "Nothing."

* * *

_You and me, we used to be together, everyday together, always._

_I really feel that I'm losing my best friend. I can't believe this could be the end._

_It looks as though you're letting go, and if it's real well, I don't want to know._

_Don't speak. I know just what you're saying._

_So, please stop explaining. Don't tell me 'cause it hurts._

_Don't speak. I know what you're thinking. I don't need your reasons._

_Don't tell me 'cause it hurts._

_(Don't Speak – No Doubt)_

Clary had just stepped backstage when she felt a hand on her elbow. She spun, not sure who she was expecting, and came face to face with Jordan. Her heart picked up pace and chills raced through her body. Why was she so nervous?

"Hey. Can we talk?"

His hazel-green eyes bore into hers. He looked so vulnerable, how could she say no?

"Um…"

"Please? I feel like you've been avoiding me all week," he pleaded.

Her resolve broke.

"Okay."

A wave of relief visibly washed over him. She could physically see his muscles relax. Jordan slid his hand up her arm and over her shoulder to cradle the side of her neck.

"Thank you," he whispered.

She smiled meekly at him. "Give me half an hour, and then meet me in my room."

Jordan nodded and pressed his lips to her forehead leaving a whispered "Thank you" on her skin. They were both completely unaware of who was hidden in the shadows.

Clary showered and dressed in a pair of shorts and a matching camisole. She was gently finger-combing through her tangled curls when she heard a knock at her door. As she made her way across the small space, she found her pulse had picked up speed again. She had never been that nervous around Jordan before, so why was she now?

She opened the door and Jordan stepped inside. After closing the door behind him, she turned to face a very anxious man. Jordan was tugging at his shaggy, brown hair and chewing on his full bottom lip. He looked up at her; a small crease had formed between his dark brows.

"I'm sorry–" he began.

Clary interrupted him. "Don't be."

"I was out of line. I don't know what I was thinking."

"It's okay, really."

"Clary?"

"Yes?"

"I'm breaking up with Maia."

Clary's pulse pounded in her ears. She could barely hear her own voice when she spoke. "Why?"

Jordan's brow furrowed slightly before he smoothed it over. "Well, I mean, I think she's going to break up with me anyway–"

"Are you sure? Have you talked to her about this?" She was in full on panic mode.

"Not exactly. But it isn't hard to guess. She's been spending all of her time with Bat lately and we barely talk over the phone. I haven't spoken to her since that night. She's always _too busy_, which translates into _I'm spending time with Bat_."

"Oh." _Oh? That's all you can come up with? _"What if you're making a mistake? I mean, you love Maia."

"I do. But it's been a long time coming, if I'm being honest."

Clary was confused, her button nose scrunched up in proof. "What do you mean?"

"The chemistry just hasn't been there for a while. Not like it used to be."

She continued to stare at him with the same look of confusion on her face. Jordan took two steps forward and was instantly in front of her – merely inches from her body – and she could feel the heat radiating from his muscular build.

"Clary, Maia and I have never had the kind of spark that you and I have."

Clary backed a little away, shaking her head, her hand raised as a shield. "No. Stop, please. Just…stop."

"Clary—" His hand reached out to take hers.

"No, Jordan. We aren't doing this. You know my rule."

His movement halted and his hand dropped back to his side. "Why? We have a history, Clary, a good history, doesn't that count for something?"

She shook her head slightly. Jordan gently grabbed onto her cheeks, ceasing her motion. He turned her face upward so that her eyes found his. She was frozen in place, pulse pounding erratically.

"We're good together. We always have been."

"I have a rule."

"Fuck your rule."

"I-I can't," she stammered.

"Why not?"

"Because."

His lips were inching dangerously close to hers. If he kissed her right then, in that moment, she would lose her grip. She would lose her fight.

"Because?"

His warm breath washed over her face. She closed her eyes as she felt his lips brush against hers with the tenderness of a butterfly's wings.

"I wanna be with someone else."

Everything went still for what seemed like an eternity. Clary didn't move, didn't open her eyes…she didn't breathe.

"What?" Jordan whispered, almost inaudibly.

Her eyes fluttered open and she was met with a myriad of emotions: desire, confusion, betrayal.

"You wanna be with someone else?" he asked, as if unsure of what she had really said.

Recognition filled his eyes as she nodded, with just a fraction of a movement, while her heart continued to hammer inside her chest and ears.

* * *

Thanks so much for reading!

Please leave a review and let me know what you think. I'm having a bit of trouble writing the next chapter, so maybe your opinions/inputs/outcries will help.


	9. Chapter 9

I am so sorry about the two week wait! It killed me that I did that to y'all. I was out of town for about a week and, unbeknownst to me, I had no WiFi access for my laptop (crazy, huh?). But, I'm uploading now and I promise to try my hardest not to make you wait this long again. :)

Anyway, this chapter will hopefully make it up to you. It's got a little Clace action. Yay!

Also, please take note: this is un-beta'd, so all mistakes are mine. I apologize up front.

Please enjoy! :) Don't forget to leave a review!

Warning: Rated M for language and sexual themes.

_Disclaimer: Cassandra Clare owns all of The Mortal Instruments characters. I only own this story idea, so please do not steal/copy/infringe…etc…etc…my ideas. Thank you._

* * *

Chapter Nine

_Always, I remember you; slow down so I can follow you._

_And you, such a fearless soul, disarmed me by truth and broke my mold._

_Always, I remember you; slow down and try to tell the truth._

_And I know I'm just a coward when it comes to love._

_To sum by words, like an old wife's tale._

_Goodbye my deeper child, take down your barricades and follow your own path now._

_(Always – Panama)_

Everything was falling apart. Everything. Clary didn't know how to put it all back to together, either.

Jordan wasn't speaking to her…again, at least not in the chatty, friendly way she was used to, and she couldn't really blame him. He had bared himself to her, taken a risk on her wanting him the way that he wanted her, and she all but threw it back in his face with her shocking confession. He had still followed through with his plan to break up with Maia, though. Isabelle had told her that he basically said it was time anyway, and that there was no use in hanging onto a dying relationship just because he didn't want to be alone. But, still…she felt horrible that she couldn't be what he wanted her to be…what he'd desired for her to be.

She hated not talking to Jordan, too. It killed her. He had always been there. Always. And now, they were damaged – severely damaged. She wasn't sure if she'd ever be able to mend that severed bond, and that scared her. A life without Jordan in any capacity was terrifying to her. She had to figure out a way to fix things, to explain herself to him. Because, he hadn't given her the chance to do that, he was too hurt when he found out about Jace…

Jace. That was another issue entirely. Since that night he hadn't been to her room to visit…not once. It had been a week – a whole, solid week – and she was worried that something had happened. Did he know about Jordan? How could he? She needed to talk to him, to ask him why he was distancing himself from her. She couldn't lose him, too. Losing Jordan would be one thing – because he was one of her oldest and dearest friends – but, to lose Jace…that would wreck her. Worse than Will had.

She was sitting on her small bed in her tiny living quarters on the band's immaculate bus, her nerves overwhelming her body. She felt exhausted, and she couldn't will her legs to move towards the door. She was afraid of what Jace would say once she confronted him. Would he reject her? Would he tell her that he had grown tired of their friendship already? Well, she was never going to find out just sitting there. So, she pushed herself up from her mattress and forced her feet to carry her to the door.

After peeking into the hallway, and verifying that there was no one roaming around it, Clary quietly glided towards Jace's room. She knocked softly on his door. Then, she pressed her ear to the wood and was met by silence. Maybe he wasn't in? Or, maybe he had already gone to bed? They did have a pretty intense show and everyone, herself included, spoke of their exhaustion afterwards. Just as she had made up her mind and was about to turn back towards her room his door cracked open.

"Clary?" he spoke, his voice sounding slightly raspy, as it always did right after a long performance.

She spun towards him, her jade eyes wide as if she had been caught doing something wrong. Jace stood in front of her, wedged between the door and the frame, wearing nothing but a pair of low sitting pajama bottoms and sexy, disheveled, honey-blonde hair.

"I'm sorry," she began. "I've clearly woken you. I'll just leave."

She hadn't taken one step before five long, calloused fingers wrapped around her delicate wrist.

"Stay," he urged softly.

She turned towards him once more. "Are you sure? I don't wanna keep you from your sleep."

"I wasn't sleeping," he admitted as he dropped her wrist. "I've had a hard time doing that all week."

"Really?"

Jace nodded. Then he took a step back, opening up the doorway, and motioned with is hand for her to enter. She crossed over the threshold and into his room, surveying her surroundings with intrigue. It was the first time she had ever been in his bedroom, which he had taken over from Jem. It was plain – ordinarily plain – but not in a bad way. His bed was all white: white sheets, white pillow cases, white duvet, and his walls were bare, save for the mirror hanging next to the bathroom door. The only things bearing any character in his room were his guitars, which were perched carefully on two stands in the corner, next to an armchair.

"So, what's up?" he asked after a few moments of silence had passed between them.

Clary spun on her heels. "Hhmm?" She noticed his door was closed tight and Jace was now standing just a few feet from her. She could almost feel the heat radiating from his body.

"You came to my room in the middle of the night. You've never come to my room before. So, I figure something must be up," he explained as he crossed his arms over his bare chest. His biceps flexed from the motion and she nearly grew light-headed as an effect.

Clary chewed on her bottom lip as she contemplated on what to say. She wished she had prepared better before going to see him. Jace watched her hesitantly, expectantly.

"Are you mad at me?" she blurted.

It wasn't what she wanted to say, but it was the first coherent thought that came to her mind. It was hard to think in complete thoughts while Jace was standing before her half naked and in his sleep wear. The bedroom setting didn't help much either. She felt herself growing warm.

His brows pinched together in confusion. Clary thought it was cute and she had to work to suppress a grin.

"What are you talking about?" he asked.

What was she talking about? Her mind was coming up blank. Then, she remembered.

"You haven't been to my room all week," she began. "Is something wrong? Have I upset you? Cause I can do that sometimes without even realizing–"

"Clary," he interrupted. "Wait. Slow down."

Her lips snapped shut mid-sentence. She stared at Jace intently, her heart was racing. He stared back, unmoving. From the look on his face, he was thinking, and he appeared to be conflicted in his thoughts. Finally, after several long and agonizing minutes, Jace spoke.

"I was under the impression that you were having another nightly visitor," he spoke with a hint of bitterness in his tone.

Clary's brows squished together between her sleepy eyes, creasing her forehead, before it dawned on her what he meant. Just as she had suspected, he had seen Jordan going into her room that night a week ago. He assumed that something was happening between the two of them. Jace was pulling away from her because of that. Because of a misperception.

Panic rose in her chest, gripping at her throat.

"No!" she exclaimed.

Jace flinched from her sudden outburst, dropping his arms in the process.

"What you think is happening, isn't happening," she tried to explain. She felt like she was failing in her attempt.

"Look," Jace began. "It's none of my business what you and Kyle are doing. I know you guys have a history, and I know he was talking about breaking up with his girlfriend. So, if you two want to –"

"I don't," she interrupted with an aggressive shake of her head. Her pony tail was swatting her face, but she couldn't find the will to care. Her thoughts were too consumed with convincing Jace that what he saw wasn't what he thought he saw.

"You don't?" he questioned with apprehension.

"I don't," she affirmed.

With a sigh she proceeded to explain. She told him about the incident in Phoenix – Jace didn't seem too pleased with that onslaught of information. About how she had been drinking with Isabelle earlier that day so when Jordan showed up at her room, drunk out of cognition, her instincts had overruled her logic. She also added that the only thing that had stopped their progression that night was Maia's phone call. She felt like she may as well be straightforward about it all.

Clary then informed Jace about the conversation she and Jordan had the night he had gone to her room. About Jordan's confession and her denial. About their mild argument. About her regret for hurting him. But she didn't, however, mention _her_ confession to Jordan. She intentionally left that part out. She wasn't ready to face rejection from Jace. It would have devastated her beyond a simple heartbreak repair.

"So," Jace began. "You don't want to be with Jordan, even though he poured his heart out to you and confessed years of harbored feelings for you?"

Clary shook her head.

"Why?" he asked skeptically.

That was the dreaded question. How could she answer honestly without confessing everything?

"Because, if I do decide to be with someone," she braced herself, "it won't be Jordan."

Jace studied her. She saw something flicker in his eyes. His jaw twitched with just the slightest of movement that she very nearly could have missed it…if she weren't studying him as closely as he was studying her.

"Clary," he spoke, his voice deep and rough. "Do you remember when I told you that there was someone I thought I could see myself with?"

Heart crushed. Knife inserted.

Clary nodded. "You said she didn't want it."

"Right. And you asked how could she not and then proceeded to tell me that she was an idiot."

She chewed on her bottom lip. Her heart was pounding within her ribcage. She didn't know where this was going, and that scared her. _He_ scared her.

"Do you remember what I said in response to that?" he asked, his voice still rough, but steady.

She took a deep breath to try and regulate the abnormal beating in her chest.

"You said you could be wrong and that you might ask her sometime."

Jace locked eyes with her. She felt as though he was trying to convey something to her though them, but she was having a hard time deciphering it at that moment due to her deflating heart and rising panic.

"I think I've decided to ask her."

Knife twisted.

"Oh, okay."

"But first," he began, and he didn't finish, but instead closed the small gap between them, took her face in his large hands, and crushed his perfect lips to hers.

She froze in place, astonishment hitting her like a sack of bricks. Jace Wayland's lips were pressed against hers…his mouth was covering hers…his scent was melding with hers. Her heart ceased to beat and her breath caught in her throat. Her eyes were stuck, wide open. Her body was rigid and unmoving. And her brain was fighting to catch up to the moment, to the absolute shock that this man had just bestowed upon her.

"Clary," Jace whispered against her unyielding lips. "Please kiss me back."

He was pleading with her.

"Please show me that I haven't misinterpreted what you were saying." His lips were brushing hers lightly.

She wanted to move – needed to move.

"Please let me know that this is what you wanted. Please."

And that was all she needed. That one, last plea resuscitated her brain back to action and kick-started her heart and lungs so that her body was once again responsive. Her eyes snapped back into focus and were met by the most beautiful shade of gold she had ever seen.

Jace began to slowly pull away, taking her silence as her answer. But he was wrong. Her silence wasn't because she didn't want him to kiss her. Her silence was her body's way of showing how much his actions had stunned her. And if she was going to keep his lips pressed firmly against hers, she needed to respond…and quickly. Fear be damned.

Clary rose to the tips of her toes, grabbed ahold of his hips to steady herself, and pushed her lips to his once again. Jace groaned, it was barely audible but she heard it and it caused her to smile internally. His hands, which had also been moving away from her face, slid downward to cup her neck and affectively hold her in place. She parted her lips to take a small breath and Jace seized the opportunity to slip his tongue between them. A gasp escaped her throat. His tongue entangled itself with hers. He tasted divine. Like mint and a hint of something else…salt, perhaps.

Their tongues continued to tango in a harmonic, fluent exchange of unspoken words. Their eyes were closed – they had been since their lips had been reunited – and she could feel the blood rushing through her veins, her pulse thrumming against the palms of Jace's hands which were pressed tenderly against her throat and wrapped around the back of her neck like a brace. His fingers entangled in her tendrils.

She was pretty sure this was as close to heaven as she had ever gotten before. His kisses were unlike any she had ever experienced in her lifetime. She was addicted, intoxicated. And she never wanted to stop feeling that way.

* * *

_Why did you wait so long? (When were you planning on saying…)_

_Fear that I might be wrong. (…that you were after it all along?)_

_Who says you need to plan it all? You had it all, we had it all._

_Caught inside getting real, coincide with the fear._

_Step outside before the dawn, before you're gone._

_(Caught Inside – Bad Things)_

He was elated – flying high, soaring – and he never wanted to come down from the feeling her lips on his gave him. It overwhelmed him in the best possible way. Only in his wildest dreams had Jace ever thought that he would be kissing Clarissa Morgenstern on his bed in the middle of the night. It was surreal.

Only it wasn't. Because it _had_ happened. And it had been incredible.

He could still feel her soft, silk-like skin on his, taste the bitter coffee flavor on her lips, smell her strawberry-scented shampoo and lavender-scented body wash that had enveloped him for hours. And he could hear her whimpers and moans and sighs as if she were still next to him, whispering in his ear like she had been just a few short hours before.

"_Jace," she breathed as he moved along her jaw and throat, placing wet kisses in his path._

_He hummed in response and it sent a shiver through her body. He smiled against her skin._

"_You terrify me," she confessed, her voice so small that it nearly gutted him._

_He knew relationships were a fear of hers. He had figured that was the purpose behind her No Dating Rule, even though she had never really hinted at it. Will Herondale had really screwed her over. Jace made a mental note to rectify that…soon._

_He pulled back from her, just a short distance, and gazed into her eyes. They were like shining emeralds reflecting the glowing light from the lamp on his dresser._

"_You don't have to be afraid of me, Clary. I will never intentionally hurt you. And if, by some chance I happen to do something really fucking stupid, I will punish myself astronomically…trust me. I would never forgive myself. Ever. You're safe with me. I promise." He tried to assure her as best he could._

_She buried her face in his chest – they were lying down, side-by-side – and he gently stroked her auburn curls. He felt her small hand wrap around the dip above his hip, her shirt had ridden up her abdomen during their heavy kissing and his free hand was resting against the exposed skin of her lower back. Their bare feet were tangled at the base of the bed…well, his feet were at the base of the bed, hers reached just below his knees due to her five foot-two stature. Her legs were bare and as smooth as satin._

_He felt her warm breath flow out in a rush against his chest, and then her head rose so that she was eye-to-eye with him once again. He studied her face. She was flawless. Smooth, blemish-free skin with a dusting of light freckles across her small, delicate nose and high, rosy cheekbones, large, bright green eyes encased in a set of long, copper lashes, and a perfect pair of pink, plump lips that just begged to be kissed._

_So, he did just that as he dipped his head and pressed his mouth to hers once more. She hummed in approval and gripped at his side even tighter, her short fingernails digging encouragingly into his flesh. Jace brushed his hand down the length of her body and took hold of her curvy hip, pulling her closer to him while using his other hand to press her lower half firmly against his. Clary's hand slipped up his back to flatten between his shoulder blades, her other was curled against his chest, sandwiched between their bodies._

_Deciding that she still wasn't close enough, Jace rolled Clary onto her back and stretched himself out above her, pressing her petite frame into the mattress beneath her back. She purred and it all but drove him crazy. He devoured her and she drank him in. Every move he made, she countered with a move of her own. There was an unspoken understanding between the two of them that their kissing would not escalate past what they were doing at that moment. Clothes would stay on until she was ready to take the next step. _

_Jace was in no rush with Clary. _

_For her, he would take all the time in the world…as long as she was his, and he was hers._

* * *

I hope you enjoyed it. :) I can't wait to read your reviews. *Loves and hugs*


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